As 2016 comes to an end, I’m not exactly sure what I’m hoping will come out of 2017.
Or what will come out of 2017.
In 2016, things happened that I didn’t even think would happen.
I don’t like “Him” anymore.
I found out I have anxiety, and I suffer from it.
I’ve been behind the wheel of a car.
There were experiences and feelings in 2016 that I can’t even describe.
I’m at a loss for words to even write this post.
What am I even trying to say?
There were moments in 2016 where I just wanted to give up. But somehow I didn’t.
How did I accept that I had a mental disorder? How did I escape the hell of its’ consequences?
There were times where I would’ve and should’ve drowned under everything.
But somehow I’m here.
Call it luck? Call it me?
I’m freakin’ scared for 2017.
I want to get out of 2016 but I don’t want to leave it’s comfort.
I don’t want to let go of the anchor. I don’t want to start a new book.
I’m not ready to open Book 18 and start penning it.
To be honest, I’m not even sure if I’ll make it out.
I want to be strong. But how can I with fear?
Do heroes have fear when they have to be strong?
Because I’m honestly terrified.
I don’t want to put so much hope in a year.
The last time I did that… look what happened.
I mean 2016 wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t amazing.
It was a good year. I made it through.
But can I do that this time?
Can I make it through?
Can I be strong?
Can I be brave?
That’s what scares me.
Here’s to 2017.
Please be good to me.
Here I am finishing chapter 12 of Book 17.
About to open Book 18.