Last year was the most difficult of my life. When my mind is unguarded, I find that I look back on the year with bitterness, anger, and despair. If I make myself look more closely, though, I can see that there were moments of happiness, and of true beauty and hope.
2013 stole my daughter from me. When the year started, she was still herself; at year's end, she was someone so very different that I still struggle to grasp it. I learned just how quick the onset of an illness can be, and how rapidly a person can go from healthy to very sick.
2013 took my son's innocence. So much focus is put on Hope that many of you don't know how my baby boy struggles. I'll write a post about him soon, because a blip here just doesn't do him justice. For now I'll just say that our circumstances have caused such a rise in his anxiety that he now struggles every day with it. I didn't lose my son this year as fully as I feel I lost my daughter, but I am brokenhearted at the change in him.
2013 was the year I lost the family that was to come. We've always talked about the possibility of another child, either biological or adopted. We've also said someday we would foster, which is a dream I've had since childhood. I thought that once we got our big move out of the way, and once we were settled in our new state for a year or two, we would proceed. Now, we don't know what Hope's illness will look like, or what our life will look like. Her early diagnosis tells us that her illness may be severe, and her psychosis tells us that her case is not a "simple" bipolar, as if such an illness is ever simple. More children are just not possible for us anymore, because she may have significant needs that make it difficult to spread ourselves any further, and because her intrusive thoughts are violent (she hasn't tried to harm anyone, but we can't take that chance.) My future, the way I always dreamed it, has been ripped away from me.
2013 showed me the worst things in myself, as the struggles we faced brought out everything ugly in me. I lacked patience. I struggled at times to speak kindly. I was irrationally angry that the rest of the world was just going on as usual. I found myself feeling jealous of other families, with their happy, healthy children. I had so many thoughts and feelings that made me feel very ashamed. I even felt angry at myself for presenting a calm exterior despite the internal chaos, because I felt like I was being so dishonest. I often struggled to accept the person I was in 2013.
2013 stole my security. After experiencing something so unexpected that shook me to the core, I feel like I'm always waiting for the next blow. I wake feeling anxious, and fall asleep at night trying to fight either anxiety or tears. I fear that I will never feel truly calm or safe again.
2013 brought many great experiences. We got to see more of what our area has to offer, visited museums, attended concerts, musicals, and sporting events. Our extended family rented a beach house, and we had a great vacation with my mom, my siblings, and our beautiful nieces. We took a mini-vacation to a resort with an indoor water park. We got season passes to our local amusement park, visited frequently, and discovered that the little man, like his sister, is a coaster enthusiast. (He was just big enough -- with his shoes on -- to ride all the biggest coasters.) Hope took up a new hobby (parkour), and started a new weekly volunteer gig at an animal rescue. Baby bro played his first season of tackle football. Both kids joined a theater group, and participated in their first play.
2013 showed us so much love and support. We carried this burden alone for a few months, but when we finally did tell the world about Hope's illness, we were showed so much love. There were many messages of support, stories of others' journeys, and so many prayers. When you find yourself in the trenches, it is truly a blessing to look around and see the people who are standing with you. Sure, you may not see a few people who you thought would be there. But you'll be touched to see that people you never expected have suited up and marched right into battle with you.
2013 showed my family the things in us that are admirable, and of which we can feel proud. We leaned on each other, when it would have been so easy to turn on each other instead. We learned that we are stronger than we knew. We saw just how much love there is between us. Both her psychiatrist and her therapist told us how rare it is in their job to find a family who advocates so strongly, and shows so much support. (Sadly, many of these kids come from less-than-ideal backgrounds.) We were also told that it's extremely rare to find an adolescent who, despite feeling general anger, is not angry at her parents, describes them as doing a good job, and describes a close relationship. Hearing this was such a gift, and helped to soften all the other blows coming at us.
2013 strengthened my faith. In such dark times, when I felt completely broken, I was able to feel myself being carried. I have leaned heavily on the knowledge that this earth is not our permanent home, and that someday all of us, Hope included, will be whole and well and perfect. I have clung to Jeremiah 29:11 -- "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
The new year is a time for looking forward. It's a time of hope. I've always seen a new year as a time for new possibilities. I've always hoped that the coming year would be the best one yet. I have found that this new year lacks that sweet feeling of newness and endless possibility. I know that struggles will come this year. I remind myself, though, that there will be good times as well. I pray that those good times will be abundant, for all of us. May all of you out there be blessed with health and happiness, love and laughter. This is my hope for us all.
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