2019

Sucked.
Big time.
At least for me.

And I guess that is what’s led me back here. This year sucked so bad, I thought to myself, “Surely, I can’t be the only one feeling this way.” So I’ve spent the better part of the last week perusing social media for the inevitable “Eff you, 2019” memes, but have yet to find any. I guess I was feeling a bit alone with my thoughts, but then figured that maybe there are people out there feeling the same way and I should start my own “2019 was the worst” meme, only make it a blog. So, like, a long-form meme.

I got the wind knocked out of me this year. A few high points, but mostly lows. My struggle with anxiety and depression has been almost constant, the work I love felt painful and pointless, I got another year older, which only perpetuated my anxiety because the older I get the more my career is starting to feel like an unrequited love story, and then I went through a break up. The mother of all break ups. One of those break ups that makes you question everything you ever thought you knew about love and everything you thought you knew about yourself. I stepped out of a one and a half year relationship, took a long look in the mirror and I didn’t recognize what I saw. I didn’t even recognize the sound of my own voice, and the thoughts that voice was preaching in my head weren’t very healthy.

You’d think coming out of that, I would pick myself up by the bootstraps and vow to do better, that’s what I would’ve done, two, five, even ten years ago. But, I didn’t do that this time. Instead, I started feeding the negativity I was feeling and using it as fuel to get through another day. I masked my emotions, deflected any and all concern from my friends and family, and I didn’t cry. Not once. If you know me, you know that’s a very strange, bright, red flag. I cry all the time. Or at least, I did.

When I left this blog a little over a year ago, I said it was because I was craving privacy. And that’s true, I was. For the most part, I still am. But, in true Amelia fashion, my need for introspective moments swung to the extreme side of the spectrum and my privacy turned into seclusion. I was hiding, not just from the public, but from myself. All of the awareness, and presence, and love I built when I started this blog almost five years ago seemed to vanish in a few short months due to a broken heart and an extreme feeling of “not-enough-ness”.

So, I’m back. I’m writing. That feels really good. And I’m considering another dry year, but for completely different reasons than the first time. The first time, back in 2015, it was because, well, I was drinking a lot and that was distracting me from all of my hopes and dreams. And if you’ve read this blog before, you know that during that first year, this crazy thing happened when I cut out those distractions… I found myself.

But then this year happened and I lost her. I’d really like to find her again.

I realize that some/most people reading this might think “Well, that’s a little extreme, maybe you should try something else. Like therapy.” And to that I say, you haven’t been paying attention. I’m full of extremes. I’m an all or nothing person. I fall in love after a first date and if I open a pint of Ben and Jerry’s I finish the entire thing in one sitting. When I cry, I do it with my entire body, and don’t even get me started on the noise that comes out when I laugh. That’s just how I operate. I’m either in or I’m out. I’ve been spending a lot of time “out” and I’d like to dive back “in”.

And that’s what I intend to do in the new year.
New year, 2015 me.