For Better or Worse, {2017} Taught Me Resilience

On November 9, 2016, I woke up around 2:30 A.M. to find out that the world was upside down. And not Upside Down like in Stranger Things, which I almost would’ve preferred. No, this felt like I made it to the apex of a roller coaster loop… and then my safety harness came undone.

Needless to say, I didn’t go back to sleep that night. I stayed up, crying and trying to process exactly what life in America was going to look like for me—a woman of color—in the years to come. I was numb when I went to work. What followed was a year that few of us ever pictured.

But for me, there was a lot of personal chaos too.

In the past few months, both my paternal grandparents died—and as my mother’s father died when she was a child, I’m left without the only grandfather I ever knew. My depression and anxiety reached new heights, particularly with my germophobia and hair-pulling tendencies.

I’ve worried increasingly that I’ll never have a family of my own because I’m starting the process later than I intended, and my crazy mind says “That means you missed your window.” (Plus, like one in every 10 women, I have polycystic ovarian syndrome, so my system’s just gunked up.) I’ve been stressed about money, family, being alive, whether I *want* to be alive, and if I’d let my hair grow out too much (yes).

So, it’s been a tough fucking year.

Next to the semester I was severely depressed and agoraphobic in college, and the really rough period I went through before moving to Boston, this has been the worst year of my life. I frequently found myself wondering, “How the hell am I surviving this? No single human body can withstand this kind of onslaught without finally breaking.”

But here we are, at the end of the year. I am battered, I am tired, and I am staggering to the finish line. But I am here. Miraculously. Because I wasn’t alone.

I made a wonderful new friend this year.

A former co-worker, she is like a shining light in my life. She pushed me to start writing more, which in many ways led me here, to The Prompt. Because of her, I felt motivated to put myself out there with my work, even though it terrifies me. And I’ve had some successes. Failures as well, because naturally I picked one of the most subjective fields as my calling.

I frequented a local Starbucks to the point of becoming familiar with several of the baristas. I loved chatting with them in the middle of stressful work days. Plus, one barista always put an insane amount of ice in my iced drinks, and considering I have an ice-chewing addiction, that guy was my favorite (‘Sup Jeff!).

Then, I think about all the times my bestie and I texted each other to say “I can’t believe we made it through this fucking week.” I feel like I’ve lived so many years in these 12 months, I’m surprised I don’t have premature grays.

Surviving each month was a shock that we shared. But we also shared joy: in new episodes of Game of Thrones and This Is Us, in celebrity babies, in the fact that I’m getting a puppy next year. I definitely couldn’t have survived with her.

But in reality, I lived to write this 2017 review because this year forced me to.

For all the times I cried on my couch (and in bed and on the train and at work), there was a part of my brain that refused to let 2017 win. Did I eat my fair share of entire bags of chips in a single sitting? You’re damn right I did. But I also started therapy again and actively engaged in self-care. I didn’t always say “No” to things, but I didn’t automatically bow to whatever people wanted me to do like usual either.

I grew, as cheesy as it sounds. But also, screw you for thinking I’m cheesy.

I won’t make any promises about how 2018 will turn out, but with a new job, a new puppy, and a mission to finish a manuscript, I have a modicum of hope for my personal life. And of course, I’ll be here, cranking out my Prompts, to let you know how it goes.

Let’s try to kick ass, shall we?