an annual reflection

“We are made of all those who have built and broken us.” - Atticus Poetry

My entirety and my humanity are made up of this whole year.

I have been broken and healed and broken more. I have fallen in love. I have loved a lot in my life. I think it's part of my nature. I am naive and wise at the same time. I have experienced the most anxiety in my life this year. I have dealt with death and depression. I have dealt with dark thoughts. I have endured and bounced back, and somehow remained sane.

I've been in the hospital three times this year (I'm writing this from the hospital bed, where the sunlight barely shines through [both metaphorical and literal]). I cut my hair short. Grew it back. I got another tattoo. To help with my anxiety, I got into poetry, essential oils, crafting, and more mood stabilizers.

I traveled to England, and Utah, and Washington DC. I bought a hamster, and then I bought a car. I turned 26, and I feel 84. Mo remains my best friend, along with my other best friends. I've been to three weddings, endured two broken hearts, and a partridge in a pear tree.

I think we are made up of the kindness that surrounds us. Because it's not easy to remain kind when there is cruelty surrounding you, especially surrounding your heart.

I am made up of broken pieces that are glued together. Every now and then, I need to be re-glued. I fall apart easily. I like to think I'm resilient to everything around me, but I'm not. I'm just not.

This year has been a mixture of happiness and sadness. Yet I continue to educate myself on how the world works. The world asks so much of me that I cannot give. I cannot be anything more than who I am. I am kind and mean, and cold, and warm, and dying, yet immortal. I have limitations, yet I wish I was limitless. The world is a confusing place, and it's been a confusing year. 

Self-awareness is the human condition, right? If we weren't so self-aware, we wouldn't be so self-involved. I wouldn't be anxious about my present or stressed about my future. I wouldn't lie awake dreaming at night. Yet, I continue to chase stars and fools dreams, even though I'm chasing and running with no end in sight, and my lungs are running out of air, metaphorically and literally. 

That's why I need to trust the voice that speaks Peace. I'm sore, vulnerable, tired, and I probably need a cup of coffee. 

I like to think we are like snakes, and every year we shed our skin from the previous year. I'd love to shed the skin of this year. And then in the next year, in 2020, I'll have another new skin. 

I always end my blogs with 'memento mori', which is Latin for 'remember you must die'. But it's not meant in a negative manner, as Count Olaf likes to perceive it. It's meant as a reminder to the human condition. It's a mantra meaning, there's more to life than vanity, there's more to life than possessions, and there's more to life than death. It's the artful way of living. Remember to be less self-aware and MORE aware of others around you. Because you don't matter, but the impression you leave does matter. It's sort of like shedding an old skin.

Memento Mori - remember you must die. It's really meaning, remember to live well. And I'm trying.