This year was black and white.
Things were either FANTASTICamazingSOCOOLwow!! ortheWorstGETMEOUTicantstopcrying.
Today marks the one-year anniversary of The Worst Day of My Life. And it didn’t really go uphill from there. 2014 was trying, terrible, an avalanche of “let’s hope you can deal with one more pitfall.” I stopped counting the bad days and just tried to hold on with both hands, gripping edges of PleaseDontLetThisKillMe. I follow enough yogis/lifestyle bloggers/Maya Angelou enthusiasts that I’ve been inundated with encouraging quotes, blahblahblah, and Perspective diatribes. It helps, but also there were days (hours? weeks? months?) where the only thing I wanted to hear was “You’re right. That sucks. Your life is hard right now.”
On the other hand there were days (hours! weeks! months!) where I skipped from moment to moment, where the sunshine seemed endless, and where everything felt right; the stars fell into place, the puzzle pieces aligned (or whatever).
All in all, I’m glad it’s over. I want to be back in a middle ground; I’m done with displacement and amplitude. Let’s plateau. Let’s 2015.