The song Help by Papa Roach is my anthem of 2020. It is a current reflection of the many different global issues that need solving. The songs emphasis on struggling and battling temptations, darkness is the reality so many have found themselves in. Being quarantined at home has been a hard struggle for many, forced to face the constant battle of mental peace and clarity. Others are forced to turn to alcohol and various coping methods. The current situation has forced people to face themselves, it has prompted individuals to realize that they have been running and avoiding the problems. Self-isolation has been a time for self-reflection, a chance to better ourselves. It all starts with help.

"Are you sitting on your bench today?"

2020.

I want it now. I know what I want and I want it now.

The last few months have felt very surreal, especially within the last few weeks. A year ago, I wished I was dead. I had just ended my relationship with an abusive ex. How crazy is that? I wished that I could have disappeared, forget the idea of return. Ending things with an ex that I wished I had left six months earlier was the act that pushed me over the edge. I was the unhappiest I could have ever imagined myself being. I had never really experienced depression or anxiety before that change. It taught me that the recovery process after something hard ois much harder than the survival mission itself. You learn to live in such a state for so long that when you’re finally out of it, you have no idea how to respond or react. I dealt with depressive episodes for quite a long time, in fact I still do. And there is that victory lap the second you’re outside of the dark situation for sure. All the weight of trying to survive finally gets lifted off of your shoulders, and you think that “nothing gets better than this”. But then it comes to a screeching halt because that situation or that circumstance is literally all you know, and you don’t know that until you’re there. And it is HARD. Rebuilding a life outside of abuse and pain and confusion was extremely tough. I have a lot of trust issues even still with meeting new people and coming back out of my shell. The recovery process is the hardest thing someone has to do after they survive whatever it is they survived. And that doesn’t get noticed or recognition but it absolutely should. A year later, I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I still deal with anxiety and I go through depressed episodes, but I’m happy and put together. I moved out of Utah to go to school in Virginia, and it’s exactly what I needed; a change. And that change managed to change me in the last stages I was waiting to heal in. In December of ‘19 I had written a letter to myself. A letter that said I hope I’d find myself, that I was happy. I hoped that I’d make it, that I’d get over everything I dealt with and grew to be better for it. And I accomplished all of those things. Now I’m with a guy who treats me right, respects me, cares for me and my well-being, who’s patient with me and who sacrifices a lot for me—all things that are still sometimes foreign to me. And I’m even great personally—sure I’ve got some things that come up and I’m definitely not perfect; but I’m happy and healthy. I know what I want and what I’m looking for, what I want to be and what I want to accomplish. My brain is healthy and my heart is healthy. My body is healthy. A year ago, I wished I was dead. A year later, I’ve never been happier with my life. And I’ve never been more excited about the potential ahead of me. Being broken is so hard when you thought you were mended and that it turned out to be not quite true. But the recovery process is also the most beautiful and transformative thing I’ve ever done, and seen others do. I’m meant to keep moving forward. Struggles still happen, relapses still occur, old habits still show up, but it doesn’t mean you move back to square one. It means that you just keep going as you can go. We are not perfect, but we shouldn’t have to be; in fact, we’re not supposed ton be. We should keep living how we choose to live, learning how we choose to learn, and progressing how we choose to progress. We are meant to be strong, beautiful beings, and that process is hard, but it’s also one of the most worth it experiences I’ve ever had.

I have been standing on the road, beginning of my path, looking at my long journey ahead of me, wondering?, how will my life be, how many turns, up's and down's, not knowing can be a scary thing.

During these past 7 months I have suffered, cried and questioned myself more deeply than I ever thought was possible. I understand that challenging times of hardship are lessons and opportunities to evolve into our intended higher selves but holy shit has it been HARD.

Forgiveness is something that often takes years, with lots of nuance and grey areas, of which nothing can ever be black or white. Forgiveness is the art of giving someone another chance, allowing them to prove themselves again and letting go of the hurt they caused. We do it routinely in our daily lives, some transgressions require minor levels of forgiveness others more. Forgiveness means bypassing our emotional responses and judgement for a moment.

Worrying doesn't take away tomorrow's problems, it's takes away today's peace"

In May of 2019, I was suffering severely from depression. The words "self harm" were always at the top of head. This time, however, my mother's office ex acto knife had plunged far too deep within my skin. I thought nothing of it, I mean I had accidents like this all the time. However, within the next couple of weeks, I noticed it had become infected.

I have a confession: I feel like the biggest loser ever. And not like the show, The Biggest Loser where you win for losing the most weight after getting your ass beat by Jillian Michaels. Nope. Not like that. I genuinely feel like my life is the biggest joke ever, like, whatever God or cosmic entity is out there is just sitting back, laughing hard every time my life crumbles to pieces after believing I had it figured out. Hilarious. At some point, things are supposed to start falling into place, right? All the screw ups and disastrous situations end up making sense, right?

The smile on my face at 50 is genuine, finally. For most of my life my smiles were fake because I had no sense of self worth. I thought I had to always smile because nobody cared enough to get to know the real me. Sometimes I didn't even know who the real me was. I was always somebody's wife, mother or employee. For the longest time I couldn't identify anything that made me truly happy except my children. Children being children often test boundaries. I was the softie and would mostly give in to what they wanted and my second husband (their step father) was always the one who put the hammer down and had very strict rules for the children. This would often cause us to fight, which led to him saying very mean things to me, which in turn made me feel worthless. I can't believe I gave him so much power!! I'm leaving out my childhood because it is not something I want to relive right now. I know where my core beliefs come from and have worked hard to challenge my negative thinking, and self doubts.