A Good 2010, An Even Better December

It's hard to believe that today is December 29, 2010. I'm not exactly sure what happened to September, October and November. I mean, really, it feels like school just started, and we're already looking at January. Even when I was little, I can remember worrying that time was going too quickly and that I would soon be old and die. Now, even though time goes even quicker, I'm confident that when my time is finished I'll be more than satisfied with the gifts I have been given.

 Like everybody else, it's hard not to look back at 2010 and weigh the good and the bad. Even though the present moment is where I try to live, I think it's also important to take some time every now and then to celebrate those moments that were memorable and forgive yourself for those moments that you wish you could actually forget.

I've had a bunch of great things happen to me this year. I was able to vacation in Santa Fe with friends this summer. I grew flowers on my back deck. I spent many hours with Grace at the dog park visiting with human and dog friends. I walked countless miles, in good and bad weather, with my best friend at the end of the leash. I read tons, saw another ton of movies. I worked and played hard with my kids at school. I hung out with my own kids and my mom and dad.

I also struck out a few times. I struggled with taking my medicine on a daily basis, not making peace with that until mid-summer. I bought a scale, but never actually brought it home. I gave in to negative self-talk, and often felt like I was a failure as a hard-core anorexic. BUT, I kept moving forward and I did "the next right thing."

In July, I said a formal goodbye to Ed, even though, admittedly, I still dream about him from time-to-time.

Out of everything, my favorite month of 2010 has been December. This may have been my favorite December ever. I started off by putting up my tree (first time in three years). I had convinced myself that my zoo would destroy it, but I think they must have sensed that it was time for a tree. I mailed Christmas cards. I went to my school's Christmas party. I shopped. . . a little. I played Christmas music.

 I took my mom and her friend to a concert of gospel music that lasted four hours. I loved how happy and excited she seemed to be. I sat the entire four hours, I sat still and calm and content.

On Christmas Day, my kids and parents all gathered at my home. My home, with a tree and stockings, and lasagna and rolls in the oven, with a dog on the couch and two cats on the bed. We laughed and cried (Well, actually, mom cried).  We played games and Sam lost! Will and Dad took Grace for a walk. We took pictures and we didn't pretend to be happy. . we were. In blue jeans and sock feet, with paper napkins and mismatched plates, with cokes in plastic bottles and shampoo gifts in stockings, with a dog trying to figure out how to hold hands when we prayed. We were happy.

Never would I have thought that I would be in such a place. I think I'm starting to live well in spite of a mental illness. In some ways, it feels as if I've learned to live well because of a mental illness. If I had known this was possible, I would have embraced my craziness years ago.