2012 has passed.  The year is gone, and I couldn’t be happier.

2012 will always be the year that Dan and I got engaged.  On a chilly October evening where he invited my nearest and dearest to be a part of something so special, so filled with love.  As time fades, that is how I will define the year and it will sound *so happy* to everyone else.  Because it was a happy moment.  The happiest of my life so far in fact.  I will remember 2012 like that as the past grows dimmer, and not in the other ways it filled and drained my soul. There is a part of that memory that feels cheap and wrong though.  Wrong to ignore all the rest.  The grey days and the fights.  The sadness and loneliness I felt.  The changes to my body and mind.

In 2012 I ate too much, I drank too much, I cried too much.  I let myself get too lonely.  I stayed in my head longer than anyone ever should.  I took pills to avoid the pain because I knew no other way.  I huddled in my bed to avoid the outside world.  I sat more than I moved.  I found a friend in food.  The kind of friend who puts you down only to pull herself back up.  I drank because it made me happier and funnier and I felt a little bit of who I was.  I lost myself and only stumbled into the light late in the year.

2012 is the year I was not.

I’ll probably forget all the laughter and kindness.  The long walks on a Saturday afternoon.  The love I felt from those nearest and dearest to me.  The fact that I did, here and there, try to find myself again.  The fact that I did, eventually, feel relief.

It paints an ugly picture of the past year, but I’m not sure what point it would serve to ignore that and pretend it didn’t happen.  So I’m embracing it for now and learning from the year that wasn’t.

So far 2013, in it’s 10 days, feels cleaner, lighter, happier, healthier and just more fun.  It sounds silly to already claim this year as better than last, since so little of it has come and gone, but there’s just something different about me.  That’s really what the difference is.  Not the new calendars and the shiny self proclamations of a new year.  It’s me.

I feel like I can finally breathe again.


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