Birthdays much like the new year offer a time to reflect on your personal life. Forty-five seems like a significant number to truly reflect. So, I've been spending some time doing that. I mean most likely, I've crossed the halfway point of my life. I feel like I need to make some priority changes and revive some lost ideas and beliefs.
At 40, I remember having so many plans and goals that I wanted to crush, particularly in that 40th year. Heck, I started writing a whole novel, and it was actually pretty good. However, I abandoned all my goals because somewhere along the way life became too hard for me. I doubted all my gifts and talents. The world became ugly and hateful. I found myself retreating from people and institutions that I once clung. The flame of my desires withdrew into darkness, and the darkness seemed to take up more and more space in my mind.
The last few years I've struggled to maintain even a semblance of myself, but this past year life almost broke me and when I thought I was putting myself back together, I crashed. Life literally picked me overhead its head and slammed me onto the ground. I shattered into a million pieces. Pieces I don't think I can ever put back together the same way. I've changed too significantly. I haven't decided if it is for the better because I'm still attempting to form the shards back together. I'm hurt and bitter and confused.
At Forty-five, I thought life would be on cruise or at least on a downhill slope, but nope. NO. WHERE. CLOSE. When I'm not pedaling up the steepest hill, I feel like I'm rowing backward all alone in a raft in the middle of an endless sea. It's honestly been horrible. I'm a broken version of myself, and it is painful to live out because I'm unsure if I can return to the strong and faithful person I was for so long, and I desperately want to be her.
I envy people who say you can just choose happiness or joy. They intentionally choose that for their life. I promise you I want that. I want to make that choice. I want to make a proclamation over my life, but my brain makes that choice so much more difficult than just "choose joy." My brain is ruled by depression.
Depression grips the scale and tilts it in the direction of darkness and despair. Depression surrounds you with loneliness and uncertainty. Depression strips away motivation and confidence. Depression assures you joy isn't a feasible choice. So, as much as I want to choose joy, I have to wage a war against myself daily in order to make that choice. The battle is endless.
Now, I'm not writing this as a woe to me plea for all of your pity. I. Do. Not. Want. Pity. I'm writing this as a declaration to myself. In order to seek out the goals I once made and in order to rebuild myself in a way that I'm recognizable, I must be transparent about my place in the world and the battles I face. One of my goals years ago was to blog frequently. What better way to be true to my 40 year old self than to blog to start off my 45th year? Here's to rebuilding myself and my faith while crushing my goals and finding a peace that dissolves my bitterness.
💜
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