The End of a Decade!
Today I leave my thirties and enter my forties. It’s exciting, that’s for sure, especially for a numbers person like me, but I thought I would have more to show for it. I thought I would be knee-deep in a successful career, impacting lives, married with kids and so much more.
Honestly, I thought I would have cured hunger and homelessness in the United States. What can I say? I have big goals 😊
I am so great at giving others grace. Of accepting people just for who they are. Meeting them where they’re at. Why can’t I do it for myself?
It’s pretty damn hard, that’s all I can say. I really have accomplished a lot in my thirties:
I got my Masters of Education
I passed the Boards
I got a job that I loved and excelled at
I bought a house!
I watched my niece and nephews grow
I made it to the interview round for an amazing job
I made it to the interview round for an exciting award
I wrote a blog and made a website…well, actually, two
And I’m about to publish a memoir, that I hope will change lives
So why isn’t it enough? How much higher could my expectations be? Why can’t I just sit back and revel in all the amazing things that have happened?
Honestly, I don’t think it’s because of my mental illness, I think it’s how I’m hardwired, but it certainly doesn’t help my anxiety and depression. I spend many nights (and, let’s be honest, days) worrying about not being enough, about not achieving the dreams that everyone else had, about being different.
But, somebody asked me last week, would you rather be different, like other people in your life, or would you rather be you? And, I surprised myself and definitively stated myself. I love HARD, and get hurt hard, but I can’t imagine it any other way. I was seriously ready to put my customer service agent from my bank on my Christmas card list because we hit it off so well! We’re having a little get-together for my birthday tonight, and it was soooo hard to narrow it down to nine people I love, because the list is so incredibly long!
So, going into my forties, I am going to give myself grace. Be grateful for my heart that loves, and makes presents, and sends cards, and loves some more. I’m different, that’s for sure, but maybe that’s what makes me special. It’s not the bipolar or the ocd or even the PTSD…it’s my heart. And boy am I glad to have that heart.
With absolute love, Liz