Dear 2016, You Were a Punch in the Face

In 2009, My grandmother gave me a journal for Christmas.
At first, my entries were sporadic. Just random prayers I had.
I wrote things down like letters to God; things I wanted to remember to be grateful for later on.

Since then, it has become a core piece in my life, filling the pages of the hand-crafted journal my best friend gave me as a birthday present a year ago.

Every few months I flip back to see where my life was and how far I’ve come, and as the new year approaches, I’ve been diving in to what my 2016 looked like.

The End of 2015:

A year ago today, I sat crying on my bed. I wrote about my breakup that took place just 3 days prior. I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even devastated. I was hopeful.

I prayed for growth. I wrote about the life I wished for the only man I knew to be the love of my life. I prayed for peace and patience. I prayed for a way to move forward. I prayed for that man to flourish. I prayed for him to have the best Christmas and to find a job he loves and I prayed for his own heeling, as well as mine

Flipping through months, it seemed like that was an impossible feat for both of us.

And my world only continued to crash. I struggled through my final days in Graduate school, barely making it through my final project, going days and weeks without sleep because I couldn’t stop crying long enough to get an hour in.

My physical, mental, and emotional health were in a fuzzy state. I dropped 10 pounds in 3 weeks, with not a single person noticing. My job weighed me down, pulling me under water like an anchor.

I prayed for days in that journal, filling pages with heartache of my job, my heart, and my life. As months passed, life only got harder. I was struggling with my job as a social worker and the ability to work with my clients.

2016:

I was still trying to decide what to do with my life and my overall unhappiness. I had already researched and filled out the application for the Master's program at SIUE, but I couldn’t make myself submit the application, having been afraid I only chose the school because of its proximity to the man who was no longer my love.

Then one day, my entire world changed.
Months prior, I had a disagreement with a court system over a case and a child was sent home.
The facts do not matter at this point because not a single person could have predicted what ensued…

I got a call from a hospital explaining this child was being sent on to another hospital for further, pediatric care. I waited by the phone….another call came. Critical condition. Another call came. Non-accidental. Another call came……child is dying. I waited by the phone. I waited. I waited. I prayed. I waited.

Days passed with no improvements. Days of crying. Praying. Waiting. Days where my friend literally had to come to my house and pick me up off of my kitchen floor where I’d been force feeding myself wine by the bottle.

I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t do anything. What if I had been there? What if I’d tried harder? What if I’d been a better caseworker? What if I'd worked harder with the parents? What if I wasn’t so tired? So drained? So heartbroken?

For an entire month, I dragged myself to work like a zombie, crying every night when I tried to sleep, hoping that somehow the world would quit being cruel.

When I finally got the courage to visit the child in the hospital, I wasn’t sure I could even go through with it. I cried in the parking lot before going in, afraid of how this could change me. Afraid that I’d walk in there, see them, and quit my job right then. Because while mistakes DO happen, they can’t happen to me. They can’t happen like this.

Have you ever held a heartbeat? Listened to its soft rhythm from a warm body in your hands?

I found my soul that day. 

I found my soul in a quiet hospital room, listening to a monitor beep next to me, the light reflecting down on the sweetest face my eyes have ever known.
I found my hope.

When I finally arrived in the City this summer, I had no idea what to expect. New job, new school, new coworkers…. I was terrified. What if I flop? What if I’m miserable? What if my life doesn’t really change?

In the past 6 months, I have had 2 different people tell me I am their role model. While I am flattered, I’m also flabbergasted.

I never know what the hell I’m doing. I never know if I’m going to survive Grad school, drop out, make it through my job, or every really do anything with my life.

I am always running from one thing to the next, struggling to try and get my writing published, struggling to navigate dating, trying to remember to actually buy groceries on my way home, and arguing with my neighbors over the shit they leave on the steps...

2016 has been a whirlwind and while it might not have started off great, I had a lot to learn.
And don’t worry, that child is thriving now. Maybe I just needed to find my soul. God knew that. He always does.

2016 has brought me so many new and amazing opportunities.
It has brought me new friends whom I greatly cherish.
It has made me more politically aware than I have ever been in my entire 25 years of living.
It has made me learn how to be passionately argumentative in some super weird ways.
And it has shown me that even though things start out rough, in the end it can all be worth it.


Here’s to kicking off a new year, and learning to live bravely in 2017.