2019: Bye, Bitch (Also, ABBP)

No, that about sums up my relationship with 2019. Not that it was all bad but goodbye 2019, can’t miss you ‘till you’re gone, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.

From emotional turmoil springs growth and wisdom, but why can’t we have the latter without the former?

I haven’t really talked about it, and I’m still hesitant to approach it. I don’t want to type the words and the only thing driving me forward is the bravery of others who have discussed it, as their candid confessions convinced me to seek my own help.

Even if you know me, what you don’t know about me is that I have near-debilitating anxiety. Everything from answering the phone to driving someplace new leaves me sick to my stomach. You don’t know, because I’ve never let it stop me. To me, that was my failure point-once my anxiety dictated what I couldn’t do, I was no longer the master of it.

Boy was I full of bullshit. In 2019 I learned that just because I can push through something doesn’t mean I’m doing so in a healthy, beneficial way.

Last year found me overrun by my anxiety and health issues until it beat me down to nothing. I knew I was in trouble when I’d find myself immobilized with fear in a spot, staring into space and wondering if life was worth living.

Then hustling to get moving before somebody saw me so nobody would know.

I really want to delete all that. I don’t want to talk about it. But on the off-chance somebody reads it and goes, “Hey, I see myself in those words,” I’m going to leave it. Because there’s hope beyond those dark moments.

From deep emotional turmoil springs growth and wisdom. If you can survive the turmoil first.

I saw a therapist for the first time in 2019. I had what matters to me pointed out, and what heals me. I had open, painful discussions with my husband of what I was battling and instead of him shying away, he stepped up and was exactly the person I needed.

I’ve discovered better living through chemistry, with a wonderful, non-judgmental doctor who all but held my hand and told me there was no shame in needing help. I mean, she thanks me for being ‘brave’ enough to send her emails when I’m struggling with medication side effects. Where has she been all my life?

Things aren’t peachy, but they’re better. I’m in tune with what’s happening in my mind now, and the thoughts and actions that lead to darkness. I’m more at peace with relationships in my life, even when I still struggle with them. I’m learning boundary setting, and how to be kind to myself.

I’m enjoying things again.

That sentence alone makes me want to cry.

I’m laughing more.

I’m looking back through my life and seeing how depression and anxiety have been a life-long struggle, and getting frustrated at how long it took me to seek help. Mad at all the years I spent feeling like seeking help was shameful, made me less strong, meant I was broken.

Now, however, I know that I’m assembling a toolbox full of everything I need to survive. That I can live happier, co-habitating with my anxiety without letting it take the wheel. I know the things that bring me peace, and am working on not feeling selfish when I take time to give myself those things.

2019 was the year I experienced the deepest, darkest depression of my life. It was also the year I overcame stigmas about therapy and mental health. Also in 2019, I found a few doctors who not only believe I’m sick, but set forth a plan of action for finally getting a diagnosis after 8 long years.

I sold a few stories I love in 2019. I was published in a second anthology, and got to do my first book event for that anthology.

I took a job that has improved my life. I went camping a lot. Found inspiration in my home. Adopted a bunny.

In 2019, I survived. In 2020, I want to thrive.

In 2020, I’m going to stop apologizing when it takes me a day or two to answer an email.

In 2020, I’m going to work to create more spaces I love inside my house.

In 2020, I’m going to go to Borneo, and Bouchercon, and probably to the coast a bunch.

I’m going to find out how to work out without as much pain (after my Utah half-marathon in March!) I’m going to declutter the house.

I’m definitely going to bake more pies. ABBP-Always be baking pies.

I’m going to work on being kinder to myself, and loving those who are kind to me even harder. I’m going to try to be a better friend, and to stop moving all the damn time (No promises, miles to go before I sleep still.)

So 2019: Get the fuck out of my house. Thank you for the changes you brought, for the growth and wisdom, but you better cross the street if you ever see me coming after this.

Happy new year, friends and readers. May 2020 bring you joy, growth, wisdom and love, and leave all that bullshit emotional turmoil back in 2019.

Tomorrow, I’ll likely post something I wrote to share with my therapist a while ago.

And if you feel yourself struggling, too—get help. Tell somebody. Email me. You’re not alone, and there’s no shame. This is a moment in your life, but it won’t be every moment forever.

If you’re in Crisis, or just need an ear, text Home to 741741 to speak immediately with a crisis counselor on the Crisis Text Line.