Dear Twenty Six,
I have just barely begun typing and I feel the tears streaming delicately down my cheek, as I sit here prepared to reminisce over the last 366 days. It makes sense for this to have been one of those years that just throws in one extra day.
So here we go Twenty Six, you sweet, sorrowful year. I was challenged and changed, shaped and molded, weakened and sharpened, broke down and build back up, I fell until I remembered how to fly. I felt the depths of hopelessness, and fell into that familiar pit of despair.
But in that pit you taught me how to crawl until I could climb, you taught me how to reach out and ask for help. You taught me how to breathe through the panic, cry through the pain, smile through the tears, and laugh through the ache.
You taught me to love and accept love fully and deeply for the first time in my life. You taught me how to build trust the right way, on a firm foundation, rooted in love and faith. You taught me to fear and to fight. You brought a crisis of faith, in turn for renewed faith. You brought me a reckoning of all the emotions that I have held back for so long, a crumbling of the walls that I’ve worked so hard to build convinced they were keeping me safe.
There was a lot of necessary pain, but with that you also brought me the help I needed, the healers I needed, the paving of the path in front of me, a home with my husband, and healing of my heart. You shook my foundation, you tried to break my spirit, but ultimately you brought me back to me. This year we did the hard work, the start of the rest and repair after all these years of running.
I began my twenty sixth year of life, hopeless, crumbled and afraid, reliant on more meds than ever before, and more help than ever before. In my mind that was the rock bottom. And then the the world paused and I was left with just ME, limited access to health care, and the few people that stuck by, and there we began the real work. All this time I thought I would heal when I completed the task of fixing my physical body. This year I learned that my physical body is above all else the housing of my soul. I weaned off of the harmful medications, started to trust my body and my symptoms again, found my breath, and then the real healing began repairing the patch work of my soul, a reconciliation of all of me to me within me.
I’m not done yet, i’m only merely getting started. But this year opened the doors, laid the foundation, and forced the steps forward. So Twenty Six, I cherish you, because the way you pushed could have sent me permanently away, forever running, but instead I chose to stop running, and start my journey back home to me. Thank you for pushing me down, because of you I learned how to fully rise up.