I wanted to mention why I’m so looking forward to the new year. I really am excited for a brand new start. But to make sure you understand the gravity of it, I’m going to remind/tell you some back story so you understand the gravity of my happiness.
2013 was supposed to be my year of starting over; fresh beginnings, happier times. On January 3rd, I published a post that I had sat on out of fear for a long time called Holding Back. I had hopes that I would use 2013 to stop hiding the real me with my opinions and likes to people in real life. It was like my New Years Resolution post. I was full of hope on really climbing out of shell of past hurts; being more honest to myself, my flawed self, and letting other people see the real me. I also planned on doing lots of other things; things with my friends, read lots of books, and try to begin healing emotionally and mentally from “insane 2011″ and “rocky 2012″–with my mom dropping the divorce papers and giving my dad a second chance.
Instead, it turned out that 2012 was actually the “good year” because 2013 barely started and it all went downhill again–very, very quickly. On January 19th, I sat down with panic and tears and managed to write out S.O.S. For the first time to you, my internet audience, I expressed how much my Mom and I needed your prayers for strength to face the opposition we were getting as she filed again for divorce. That spring I was pushed to my limits as my dad was behaving like a jerk, unwilling to separate from my mom and give us the space we all needed.
In April, we ended up leaving the church we had just joined in 2011, with my dad remaining there, even though he hadn’t said a nice word about the place or the people since attending, which was maddening. My sister was so depressed that my mom sent her out of town to my grandparents’ house to get away from it all. I ended up shelving Sherlock Holmes; I didn’t get to say goodbye to my best friend in person and I didn’t want to say goodbye anyway. I hung onto a hope that at some point we could finish those last few stories together like we had planned. But here we are at the end of the year and I haven’t seen or heard from him since. That was hard. And you know it’s bad when I was emotionally able to relate to being a zombie as Warm Bodies made me realize during April.
As I’ve recapped for you, the first half of the year was a real trial, even into summer. I tried to keep up a relationship with my dad, that was ruined completely by the end of summer. At this point, our relationship is like the metaphor of an immovable object getting hit by an unstoppable force- to pursue a relationship like that is completely pointless. This was frustrating and hard to realize; every daughter needs a father. But I came to the conclusion that I was only setting myself up for having my emotions trampled on over and over again; since breaking contact, my confidence, security, and emotional stability and strength has grown in leaps.
The real sad truth about this whole year of 2013 was that things didn’t start looking up until my parents became separated. Nobody wants to believe this, but real peace entered our home when my dad moved out. I’m not afraid of saying the fact that I fully support my Mom and that her choice to file for divorce was one of the best choices she’s ever made for our family hands down. (Most counselors will not take what I’m writing here seriously.)
The hero of the year is my Mom because she did what she knew was best–not just for me and my siblings, but for herself, for once–and made our home a stable place again. Stress levels and heart ache has dropped from super-crisis level–the family all on the edge of a 500,000 foot drop–to the ground floor! And you would say kids should not be happy about their parents getting divorced, but it’s the best thing to happen to her, me and my siblings. My brother actually sees more of my dad then when he was living with us because he was working all the time (nobody believes this fact, either.) And while it was excruciatingly painful during the beginning of the year, where the four of us all are now in regards to emotional, mental, spiritual and even physical health is astonishingly amazing.
(I want to thank all of you who prayed for us during those months of hardship, or lent verbal support to me through the comments, as it was a great blessing to know people actually cared.)
Here at the end of the year, I look back and for a moment I felt like I had failed, somehow, in living out that post Holding Back. I’d lost pretty much all contact to church friends and didn’t really see anyone in person at all this year (thus the reason why I was able to watch so much TV.) I didn’t get a chance to really open up to those people. But then I realized I had fulfilled that resolution in a different way. I ended up learning a lot about myself instead; in the end I was true to myself and what I was comfortable with, with my dad, which was an empowering moment when I actually got through it.
And this is why I’m so excited for 2014.
My mom has the guts and courage to stick out the long waiting process for the divorce. So Lord willing, there will be no more awful, emotionally wrecking church counselor sessions that go no where, no more wounds on top of wounds day in and day out, and no more intense tension throughout the house. 2014, all though it promises to be another tough year, is also filled with the hope of security. Things aren’t hanging in suspense and insecurity anymore like they once were. I know I can actually work on recovering because of my Mom’s choices and my own choices.
I know a more about how to keep myself safe now, emotionally, spiritually and mentally. I’m getting better at saying no when I need or want to and about not acting out of fear of what other people might think of me. There is a lot of of hope at last on my horizon, the sun has finally peaked through the hurricane.
I don’t know what the future holds, I don’t want to tempt fate, and I don’t fathom to predict that it’s smooth sailing from here on out. But I am able to recognize hope when I see it.
That’s a good feeling.