Maybe it’s the time of year, or maybe it’s just me.
For some reason in December I find myself taking stock of what has been the whirlwind that was 2018. I’ve not been here much, which means I have not documented important things I wish I had. In time I will come to regret that, especially now that some of the finer details are fading from my memory.
There was a lot this year. An awful lot. Periods of happiness, sadness, dreams that disappeared and self reflection. Essentially I am the same, but at the same time I am not. I’ve changed, I am changing. The hardest thing is getting others to accept me for the flawed person that I am, or perhaps it is me learning to accept the flawed person that I am. There is nothing wrong with being flawed, it is what makes me unique. There is nothing wrong with being me, I just didn’t realise it until now, that I did not need anyone else’s approval.
I’ve missed writing. I’ve forgotten how much I need it. Still though I find myself restricted, I need to get over that, it is my choice to write and others choice as to whether they read.
I am a work in progress. My counsellor scolds me when I tell her that I do not think I can be fixed. I know everyone has issues with themselves, but no matter how hard I try I cannot even like, nevermind love myself. I still have sessions left and I hope against all hope that my hard hitting counsellor has the key to unlock the secret.
I changed physically this year too, a change that is now becoming noticable to others. Sometimes I can see it, but oftentimes not, so I still hide in clothes a size too big for my now slightly smaller frame. This is a change I would also like to build upon if I can.
Christmas is coming, the most wonderful time of the year, but my heart is lonely because I miss where I was 8 months ago, I miss what I had 8 months ago.
Where will I be in 8 months time…….we shall just have to wait and see.