There comes a time where you must admit to yourself that you don’t have all the answers. That includes feelings you’ve sat with and experienced for an extended period of time. You’re not necessarily wrong, but you’re not entirely right. And floating in that air of unknowing can fill us with more unease than the doubtfulness we have about our situations.
It’s already mid-December, and I feel more stuck than ever. For the first time in a long time I don’t necessarily feel happy about my situation. I’m trying to take positive steps. I’m down four pounds, I’ve cut out all my vices, and I’ve dealt with a decade-old problem in the healthiest way I know how. And yet, I feel incomplete. I feel like things I want are slipping through my fingers and I don’t know why. And what’s worse is I don’t know how to reclaim them.
There are certain possibilities that we don’t want to admit to ourselves, because if they come true, they’re the most crushing. But what’s worse is pretending they don’t exist. Anything is possible. Feelings can change with each new gust of wind. What once was present can slip away. If you acknowledge the worst and accept it as a possibility, you can release it. Because, at the end of the day, it doesn’t have to be the course of action that will take place.
December moods are never consistent with me. I’m up, I’m down, I’m turned all around. But I have so much hope for the new year. I feel like people will have a true reset. We’ve seen the worst of the worst, and now we know how not to act. We’ll molt and shed our skin, revealing the raw only temporarily until we can buck up and get a handle on ourselves.
2017 was odd. 2018 is even.