I am not saying that there was nothing good about that year, but I will not miss it even a little bit. When the clock counted down to 2016, I felt a wave of relief wash over me.
2015 was the year I lost my little brother. 2015 was the year I lost my hope.
2015 was the year I almost lost my faith.
2015 was the year I cried myself to sleep half the time.
2015 was the year I hoped for babies, but they never came.
2015 was the year we moved.
2015 was the year we doubted.
2015 was the year we struggled, with every fiber.
2015 was the year my stress levels went through the roof.
2015 was the year I went back to work in the United States.
2015 was when my career hopes were crushed.
2015 was a failure.
I need 2016. I need it to be better. I need hope and love and faith, and Jesus. I need good things, financial freedom and for my husband to get approved to be a resident of the United States. I need to foster my friendships and spend more time reading my Bible. I need to get a job doing something I love and where I can be a leader and showcase my strengths. I need to surround myself with people who appreciate my talents instead of resent them. I need to invite truthful and honest people to be apart of my circle of friends. I need life.
I admit that some things in 2015 were my own fault, and there were some things that helped me grow; if it weren't for a few different people, I may not have made it out of 2015 alive. But for the most part, I felt defeated and abused towards the end, and I desperately need new life and growth.
Part of me feels like a terrible Christian for admitting such failure and such a terrible year. But I think it's wrong to sugar coat things and pretend like it's something it isn't. It wasn't a good year, and I'm glad it's gone.
I'm ready for blessings. Please God.
