I had been so convinced that I was depressed–and I was for a while. And that I had such great anxiety–which I did for a while.  That I forgot about time.  Sometimes what we need most is simply, time.  Time to adjust.  Time to heal.  Time to think.  Time to reevaluate.  Time to reflect, and learn.  Time to be alone.  Time to connect.  Time to decompress.

I had been so convinced I was broken, I hadn’t realized time had passed and I had healed.  Some.  Well, a great deal, actually.  I had been so consumed by things that had happened to me, I missed things that were happening with me, or because of me–in a good way. heh.  I had wished so much ache on others that I dismissed the experience *I* had once cleared of a situation.

This year was easier than past years.  But I also worked very hard to be able to say that.  What I didn’t know, or notice, is that each time something came along to challenge me, I didn’t just crumble.  I faced it.  I detached myself for a while, which was in my best interest.  And I’m a better person for it, indeed.  And reattaching myself has been a chore.  Some things don’t fit like they used to, some things that broke I’ve outgrown and instead of going to fix it I chose to let it go.  Some things don’t look, or sound like “me” anymore.  and that’s okay.  And I’ll reflect accordingly in the coming Year in Review post.  But for now, I am thankful simply of time.  The healing time.  The reflecting time, and of course the simple time.