Saying goodbye to 2015 with openness and honesty

Sometimes I think, I don’t know what happened. Sometimes I think, how did I get to be right here, right now, right where I am?

It’s like, I am in some kind of blurry confusion. Or like I landed on my bum with a thump. I wasn’t expecting it and I am sitting there all kind of dazed and amazed.

The hours tick by and roll into days. The days tick by and roll into weeks. And I tumble and roll with them. I keep attempting to pick myself up and stumble on but I seem to lurch from one impossible situation to the next.

Some days, standing in front of several huge piles of washing feels like enough to be classified as an impossible situation.  I look at the mixtures of red and white and black and blue, which should, technically, have all been sorted out into their appropriate baskets, according to my own rules of the house. I stare at those never-ending mixed piles and I despair.

Some days, I focus on the enormous list of things I expect myself to do that day, and I realise I am in an impossible situation. I can only disappoint myself because no earthly being can possibly tick off each of those designated tasks in just one day.

Some days, I find myself pondering over a blank piece of paper. It seems like my impossible situation is to actually find enough energy to draw up the day’s list in the first place.

Instead, I drag my lazy butt over to the sofa and distract myself with the TV, or a game or someone else’s news.

Then I leave the house at the very last minute to pick up my daughter, because even though, I feel incredibly lonely, I can’t bear to face the other mums. With their happy smiles or their problems or their invitations or their requests.

I attempt to hide in the driver’s seat of my car. And if they approach me, I feel the panic rising from the pit of my stomach.

Occasionally, there are days when the impossible situation is just to make it through the day.

On those days, I bite my lip, swing my foot, pace the floor, hug the dog, think of the kids, go back to bed in an attempt to wake up in a better mood, call my husband and just try to breathe in and out and tell myself that tomorrow is a brand new day full of brand new possibilities.

I’m still an optimist. Deep down inside.

2015 has not been my finest hour.

In all honesty, it’s been really bloody tough.

It’s been the accumulation and aftermath of: three burnouts, Crohn’s, a million doctor’s appointments, sick kids, diagnoses, arguments, a suicide, PTSD, continuous headaches, sleepless nights, stress, guilt, loss, panic and pain.

So I decided that the only way to turn things around was to go into a specialised clinic at the local hospital for a while.

It was the right decision. I talked and cried and laughed and painted and danced and beat the hell out of drums. I made friends and cried and talked some more. I listened. I hugged. I walked through the forest. I remembered things I’d ‘locked’ away. I talked about them and cried and then ‘locked’ them away again. Because it’s just not healthy to let those things consume your life.

Above all, I realised that my own driving force is low self-esteem, guilt and fear.

So all these years, I’ve needed to do my absolute utmost, to prove to myself that I am worthy, and to reduce the feelings of guilt that I carried around for things which I had always believed were my fault but actually weren’t. I needed to protect my family from all eventualities, because in my own experience bad things actually happened again and again.

I feel like I’ve been knocked down and built back up again. Albeit, loosely.

I can’t tell you that I feel ‘well’. I would more describe myself as feeling ‘fragile’. Sometimes, some days, still bring their impossible situations.

But I can tell you that I have more energy and that I am looking forward to Christmas more than I have in years.

And that I am hoping, ever the optimist, that when I look back in years to come, that I will see 2015 as a turning point in my life.

And that 2016 was a new beginning.

Wishing you all, from the bottom of my heart, a wonderful Christmas. And a 2016 full of hope, enlightenment, love and strength.







15 Replies to “Saying goodbye to 2015 with openness and honesty”

  1. Taking care of ourselves is the most important thing we can do. If we aren’t solid, we can’t do a good job at taking care of others we care about. But, for some reason taking care of ourselves seems so much harder than anything else.

    I have been really struggling with similar feelings myself. So, I say from the bottom of my heart that I hope 2016 is the new beginning you need it to be. May Santa Claus fill your stocking this year with strength, self esteem and the contentment you deserve.

    Merry Christmas to you and your family and best wishes for a healthier, happier 2016.


    1. Thank you Janie!!!!

      It’s like we are programmed to look after everyone else and then either run out of time or forget about ourselves. I’m trying really hard to look after myself better. One major point in that is listening to my own limits and taking heed of them. I think I need quite a lot of practice.

      Thanks again for your kind and wise words. And take care of you.

  2. So happy to hear you went to the hospital and ‘loosely’ built yourself back. It is a good start. A great comfort it is to know that there are some amazing people, specialists who can help you fix yourself if you are stuck. Every year is more or less different, and let’s hope that 2016 won’t be hard on you, and will bring wonderful surprises and ‘tender mercies’ when you need them.Happy Christmas and a great New Year!

    1. Thank you so much. There are some amazing specialists and some of the other patients were amazing too. 🙂
      They say that at the hospital. They can’t fix you, but they can put you on the start of your journey.

      Thank you again for your heartfelt comment!! Merry Christmas!!

  3. I think we are programmed to be ‘carers’ and look after everyone else before our own needs but we have to learn to look after ourselves to be able to look after others. Delegate chores – don’t feel like you have to do everything. It’s not selfish, it’s common sense.
    I hope your time at the clinic has helped you see your own worth, and with that confidence, you can slowly build yourself up again, but make some time for yourself (we all need that).
    It’s great that you are feeling optimistic and positive; that will give you the strength to make 2016 a fantastic year for you and yours. x

    1. I was brought up in a pretty much ‘uncared for’ enviroment. Then when I had my own kids, who I was determined would not grow up with the same issues as me I went into ‘caring overdrive’. Then three out of four of them had major health issues so my ‘caring overdrive’ multiplied and multiplied. I don’t think I just ‘forgot’ about myself – I think I more ignored myself, because my inner child had always learned that I’m not worth anything anyway. My family haven’t spoken to me for several years which exasperated my feeling of low (or even no) self-worth and the whole thing spiralled.

      A few months ago I couldn’t have written that, but now I understand me better.
      Now I’m trying to reprogram myself, not just to care for others, but also to care for myself.

      Thank you so much for your lovely comment Barb. I wish you a healthy and happy 2016.

      1. We all need each other Sarah, and I will never forget your valued support when my husband was so ill 2 years ago. You will never realize just how much it meant to me. Be kind to yourself Sarah. xx

    1. Thank you.
      It was hard to write. I contemplated it for a long time. Then I decided it was what I needed to do. A stepping stone if you like.

      Wishing you a wonderful 2016.

  4. One of the best books I ever read, In a Dark Wood Wandering. Historical fiction, but very good historical fiction. You reminded me of this today. Don’t know why I thought of it, but my aunt recommended it and I loved it. The author is dutch, I think. Don’t remember her name. Happy New Year Sarah!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.