2017… it almost killed me. I almost gave up. There’s two days left, we hit the 100 hour mark and I am happier than I have been all year. I have smiled more in the last 100 hours than I have all year. I haven’t slept anymore than I usually do but the hours have passed too fast where they once crept.
I have been riding that euphoric high a person gives you when your soul connects with another. A mix between finally returning home after a horrible trip and the feeling in your gut once the roller-coaster makes that huge drop after climbing to the top of the tracks. Breathtakingly beautiful yet horrifying.
But I almost didn’t get home, I almost gave up.
I didn’t think I would make it to see the end of the year but I kept getting back up for my children. This was the worst year of my life but I couldn’t leave them. I have seen what it does to the ones that are left. I started to see it in their eyes, the depression and horrible shit I had been shielding them from was starting to become noticeable. They started asking me if I was okay and giving me extra kisses at bedtime.
That might all seem normal but a mother knows when her child becomes aware of something you try so hard to protect them from. Sometimes it happens no matter how hard we try. The world tends to seep through the cracks, stealing a tiny portion of our innocence each time.
I don’t have a New Year’s resolution. I just want to have more better days in 2018. More days spent in the sunshine with my children, I have spent 2017 in the dark. It was a melancholy year.
I want to ride this roller-coaster as long as I can and not worry about the what-ifs. I want my shoulders to bend when the world creeps in so I can allow more stuff to roll off, the weight of her hands can be so heavy. I want to be happy again, I am envious of the person I once was, before 2017.