Last year on my birthday I made a list of 33 things to do before today, of which I completed…none. Not one…I mean even the one I had done for a short time, giving up ALL soda, didn’t last the whole year.
Why? Were my goals too lofty? Too ambiguous? Too expensive? No, not really. But yet I didn’t accomplish any of them.
It’s been a rough year for me (which is really a poor excuse, but a reason none the less). I have been struggling mentally, emotionally, spiritually and even physically this past year. I have faced many obstacles and it has worn me down and worn me out. It’s just life, I know that.
I know that I am not the only person going through this. I am not the only person to lose my job, take a pay cut, lose my health insurance, have to move, not be able to pay the bills, feel the tension that financial woes cause between spouses, suffer from depression, suffer from insomnia, battle fatigue, muscle aches and headaches, feel like screaming, actually screaming, feel like crying, actually crying, feel like shutting everyone out and feel like shutting down. I know that I am not alone, but there is no consolation in that. While misery may like company, I believe suffering likes to be alone. I’m certain it’s a self-pity thing.
So, I failed at completing my list. Am I a lesser person because of that? No, but it would have been nice to try new things, to accomplish set goals, to make a difference. That would have been good.
But here I am…another year older…perhaps even another year wiser (although that’s definitely up for debate). Maybe a little worse for the wear in some places, but in others I’m doing fine. And I will be okay. And I have a whole ‘nother year (God willing) to try again on that list.
