I originally started writing this on 22 December, as you can see below, but because of the move, and my back giving me trouble, and—frankly—WoW, I didn’t finish it. This seemed to be a good time to finish up the post, especially since we’re in traffic on the way to some friends’ for a New Year’s Eve get-together.
It’s December 22. Where the hell did the year go?! (She says as she packs and tosses, packs and tosses, moving from one house to another.)
Then I remember. I spent much of it on planes, in hospitals, in physiotherapy, in the car, and sometimes just flat on the couch or the bed in a mess of emotions, or worse, nothing at all somehow combined with terror and sadness and anger.
I spent it in surgeries and hospitals and physiotherapy, trying to recover from the worst accident of my life
so far (good lord, choy choy, touch wood, cancel cancel “so far”).
Warning: ugly pictures incoming.
I spent it struggling with work and my feelings about work.
And Kuching and Kota Kinabalu.
It’s been a rough year, with lots of ups and downs. Almost none of the plans I had for myself from last New Year’s Eve materialised, in large part because of the awful wrist fracture. The big thing I’d meant to do was plunge into teaching AntiGravity classes, and to prepare to start yoga teacher training. I wanted to cook more, and more technically-demanding things too. But all those things work rather better if you have two functioning arms, two working hands.
It didn’t help my head either that the injury messed with my head. It made me a lot more anxious; I started worrying in ways and to a degree I never had before. I think what it was was that it destroyed my sense of… not quite invulnerability, because I’ve been injured enough before that I know I’m not, but it certainly left me feeling much more exposed and fragile than I’ve ever been. I’d always revelled in the strength of my arms and hands. Not being able to wash or feed myself, or even something simple like scratch an itchy shoulder, much less teach someone to get into the hammock, left me feeling useless and broke my sense of self-worth.
And then little more than a month after, we lost Harry.
It’s been a long slow year recovering, and healing. But I’m getting there. 2015 will be more healing time, I think, and I don’t know yet what I want from it.
We’re moving back to Singapore after Chinese New Year next year though. It’ll be nice to be home in our cosy apartment, and we’ll be adopting another bunny, I’ll be able to spend more time with my niece and nephew, and see our friends and family.
But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I wish you all a happy year ahead, and that your 2015 is better than your 2014.