The last 18 months has passed by with a haste that has my head spinning.  Life was going along at an even keel, when one fine summer day I slipped and fell down a flight of steps putting a dent in my butt that I fear may never go away (and no, pictures will not be forthcoming of that little beaut).  I had barely recovered from this mishap, when I tore my hamstring.  I was hobbling through life, frustrated over the injury and ruing the fact my flexibility was shot.  I then fueled my nightmares by discovering my Dad after he died.  I spiraled out of control, got just a tad bit wild (insert sarcasm here), and ended up being arrested.  I then proceeded to plummet even further down the mental hole I was digging at a rapid rate.  To say I allowed myself to wallow for awhile in this low place would be a misnomer, for I was just struggling to get through the day to day aspect of my life – I wasn’t allowing anything.  I repeated raked myself through the coals – punishing myself far better mentally than most of you could imagine.

I refuse to excuse my behavior.  I am the type of person who believes that you just own up to your actions, face the music, and carry on.  I know now I was hurting, trying to find any means necessary to stop the depth of pain I was experiencing.  I was a physical and emotional mess for the longest time.

That is what is so amazing about us as humans, however.  We have the ability to grow and change.  I know I was stuck and the things I was doing weren’t taking away the pain – they were just hiding it.  It was like putting the lid on a pot of boiling water – you see the steam still escaping and can hear the bubbling of the water.  Eventually, just like that pot of water, we boil over coating everything we touch with the hot burning we are full of.  Once I took the lid off though, and the heat gradually got turned off, I could breathe again.  I started looking around me and really seeing this wonderful world we live in.

Once I forgave myself I was able to do things I never thought I would do.  I started writing on a regular basis – even submitting a short story for publication.   (It was rejected, but I was told the premise was fantastic… it is my editing that sucks.  Anyone knowing of an editor that would work for cookies, please put me in touch).  I pursued my dancing to a degree that leaves me breathless and satisfied.  I bought a road bike, my first ever real road bike, and put hundreds of miles on it this past summer.  In short, as much as I was in a deep hole – I put everything I could into pulling myself out.

For some reason, I have the feeling that 2012 is going to hold good things for me.  I want to continue to enjoy the life I lead, and the people in it who make me happy. I am starting Salsa lessons soon, on top of my Jazz and Ballet classes.  It makes me smile to think of all the wonderful things that are going to be in store for me – both known and unknown.  One might think, given the pitfalls of last year I wouldn’t see life with the rose colored glasses I am now donning with pride.

Maybe it is because we are ever changing humans – but I can look upon the last year as a year of growth.  Maybe, just maybe, we all need to hit rock bottom in order for us to see what we are are really full of.  Maybe we need to experience pain on different levels so we can truly appreciate what joy is.  Maybe we all need to be touched by sadness and grief, so we can hold onto what makes us happy and enjoy it.

Maybe life is meant to be lived.