Happy New Year, folks! As is the custom for a lot of people, I thought I’d take some time to look back at 2014. Buckle in and enjoy the ride because I have a feeling that this blog post will be long. I don’t really know how to do it any other way because 2014 felt long.
In fact, 2014 was one of the most difficult years of my life.
Starting the year with a three-month-old meant that on January 1, 2014 I didn’t feel ready or prepared to kick butt in a new year – it meant I was exhausted. At the beginning of 2014, I was struggling with postpartum depression and a lack of motivation to do really anything (probably because of the exhaustion and the postpartum depression). Honestly, I felt like I had zero interest in life. I probably put on a relatively decent front for other people, but God, my husband, and my son (well, maybe not him – who knows what a three-month-old understands?) knew how bad it had gotten. Pajamas all day. Crying. Yelling. Fear. Incredible anger. Incredible guilt. I just felt…desperate. A feeling I carried with me through the majority of 2014 (and while I feel so much different now, it’s a slippery slope I have to manage diligently even now so I don’t go back to this place).