It’s a New Year.
It’s a New Year.
Shouldn’t we feel grand? If you had a year like I did, you were probably glad to see 2019 leave without even saying good-bye. ‘Good riddance, asshole!’
Yes. I said it.
I feel like this new year, which I am also in my fourth decade at this same time, is the beginning of something major and beautiful. But I still can’t seem to shake the 2019 blues. It would be unwise of me to think that I would wake up this morning and feel like everything would be brand- spanking new, yet I had hopped to feel this essence of freedom overtake me the moment I woke up. Though I did feel hopeful, and truly a tiny spark of joy, 2019 was such an ass-kicker that I’m still trying to get up and shake off my boots.
With a hysterectomy behind me (Oct.2019), a sibling in and out of incarceration, the loss of a deeply loving and tender relationship and the news of my ex’s recent engagement, I pleaded with God to let up as I could take no more. I don’t know if my prayers and my pleas have been heard…yet.
I hear my grandmother’s voice in the ether, “God never gives you anything you can’t handle.”
Really? God must think I’m a pro-wrestler and a heavy weight champion. Indeed my heart would have shattered into pieces had anything else come my way in the last few hours of the year.
I have friends who have struggled just as tremendously as I have in the last few years. At least I’m not alone; doesn’t misery love company? Why am I still spinning my wheels in the mud and getting nowhere?
Perhaps I should let off the gas and get out of the car.
Years ago, after leaving a manipulative and abusive relationship (I’ll own it, I played my part as well), I saw a tarot reader who told me that by the time I hit forty, I’d be a powerhouse. So, when my fortieth birthday hit, I thought the world would explode with fireworks in my honor and I’d levitate off the bed and know my purpose.
I think it’s obvious none of this happened. What next? I thought to myself. Where do I go from here? There are so many things I have yet to accomplish that if I don’t stop comparing myself to everyone else, I may just shrivel up and die.
Will I ever marry? Will I ever own a home? Will I ever be happy?
Sometimes I feel like the hamster in the wheel. I think I’m going somewhere- I mean I am exercising!- but I don’t feel like I’m going anywhere.
Are things really that different from when I was in my twenties? With the exception of some smiling crow’s feet and ONE grey hair, not much has changed. I still feel lost, empty, alone and broke. I’m still working a job JUST TO PAY THE BILLS.
I’m sure one day, this will all make sense. But the hole in my heart is still there and everything just feels so empty. Like my womb. Like my bed. Like my life.
Manifestation takes time.
I know this. I just hope I don’t feel like this for another forty years.