2017 Year in Review

2017 was just an absolute dumpster fire of a year. How about that?

I'm dead serious.

Every year as I close out the last 12 months with some final end-of-the-year writing to reflect upon everything that I've experienced--whether it was success, heartbreak, adventures, revelations, and everything else in between--I try to sum up the year in some sort of fashion. Every year I was able to find something to sum up a noteworthy year.

This year, that was what I came up with--after several days of reminiscing, reflecting and wracking my brains--an absolute dumpster fire of a year.

It wasn't just me either. It was global. Nationwide. So many died. So many homes were destroyed. Disaster struck every corner of the world. People lost loved ones. People lost healthcare, social security, and public funding for important programs. Greed became the national religion and millions worshipped. We're on the verge of a nuclear warfare with North Korea. We've lost any sense of diplomacy. We as a country failed miserably.

And in essence, I felt that I, too, failed miserably as a human being this year.

Why, do you ask? Was it because I caused this dumpster fire of a year for my own self and my own experiences?

Not necessarily.

Instead of getting into the details of why it was such a dumpster fire, I'm going to just briefly skim through it. It was truly was an unpredictable roller coaster.

I spent about eight months of 2017 wasting over heartbreak over something that wasn't even a big deal. Isn't it funny how after time passes, everything else seems to pass? I allowed some stupid guy who ghosted me ruin the majority of 2017. I refused to feel better, I wanted to wallow in my sorrows and I vowed to never be in a relationship again.

Eleven months later, when I saw him again, nothing but platonism coursed through my veins. I realized that I had nothing left for him anymore inside. I almost laughed at myself for making such a big deal over something that was so infinitesimal. And yet, it didn't matter to me the majority of 2017. I still allowed it to define my year.

While I was able to get by the rest of 2017, even though work was getting more and more terrible each day, and I longed to get out of the environment that was causing me so much unnecessary anger, stress, pain and disappointment constantly day by day, I still stuck with it, because that's who I was. Don't get me wrong--it wasn't a cakewalk. I felt my bosses were getting dumber and dumber every day. I'd see the poor decisions they'd make, and I realized that I'd had enough, and that as soon as my two-year contract was up, I'd be out of there.

Fall 2017--against my better judgment, despite all that I told myself from the previous months, I gave in and began another relationship with someone else. And I broke my biggest cardinal rule I set for myself since I was a teenage girl, long before I even began an office career.

I began dating someone that I knew from my professional setting.

Do I regret it? Well for practical obvious reasons, yes. I knew that once we would end things, that would be it. I'd lose a friend. Did I care? Clearly not. Did he care? I don't think he did either. It was all just too new and too rushed. We were happy for three months. We were excited. We asked each other why we took so long to get to know each other. It was fresh.

Unpredictable is right. He became the longest relationship I ever had, and probably the more serious one. But deep down inside I knew it wasn't going to go anywhere, and I had to remind him that every day. I'm not going to be in the Central Coast forever--as soon as my two years is up in 2018, I am out of here. He understood.

A month ago, he broke up with me. I was heartbroken yet once again. I average about two heartbreaks a year, it seems like. I don't know how much more my emotional health can take after this, really.

All this was happening while I found out earlier this year that the only grandmother I have left in my life has been diagnosed with dementia, she's getting sicker and sicker every week, and she has about two years at best to live, the doctors said.

About four days before I was dumped, I get a phone call from my mother one Sunday night, crying her eyes out. My favorite uncle (my dad's older brother), has been diagnosed with final stage terminal pancreatic cancer, and at best has a few months to live.

I couldn't take it. Between all that never ending shit storm, I lost it. It struck a final chord with me--I immediately crumpled, was shattered, devastated, depressed, angry, confused, bewildered, beyond hurt, and everything else in between that you could think of. I unraveled at the hurricane of emotions that took over my mind. I'd never felt multiple impacts to hit me as hard as they did so far in my life.

What have I done to this deserve this? Why is it that when something is going somewhat well in my life, I don't even have a long enough time with it to properly enjoy it before it gets taken away from me? Do I not deserve to be happy? Do I deserve to just get things taken away from me? I didn't understand what I did. I thought I was being taught a lesson, or, being punished. I thought I deserved to just be absolutely crushed in all areas of my life. And indeed, I was crushed. Battered. Torn. Destroyed. Set ablaze. I was nothing but an empty shell, devoid of any real emotions except raw sadness and absolute depression. Devoid of all hope, happiness and everything that used to make me feel normal. I wasn't normal. I didn't feel normal.

It was the worst final month of December in 2017. It was the worst month of my life. I didn't understand what was happening with me. Back in September, I was ready for Operation Save 2017 to take into effect. As soon as I thought it was ready to, it backfired and exploded on me. I was left with smoke and ash, clouding over my perceptions, too foggy for me to think rationally and clearly, and was left to deal with my problems alone.

The last four weeks of the year, which I was hoping to send out with a bang, ended up absolutely just putting that final cherry on top of a dumpster fire of a year. My heart was set on fire. My faith and hopes in life were set ablaze. I felt helpless, numb, and dead inside.

I asked God why. I asked God how. I asked God when. I asked God a lot of questions. But most of all, I asked Him whether or not He thought this was a good time in my life to just absolutely send one hurricane after another. I mean, He sent over multiple this year--Harvey, Irma, Maria--to the rest of the globe. Why not send me one too in my own personal life?

I say all the time, the last four weeks of my life, I'd never cried so much so frequently over a collective period of time. The last four weeks probably accounted for all the tears I've cried so far during my 27 years on this earth. I had never done that before. I'd never cried every single day, multiple times a day, for a month straight. It's pretty exhausting. There was a week where I didn't shed a single tear, and then a few days later, I lost my streak. I broke down and fell apart again. I grieved and grieved and grieved. There'd be many a nights in my apartment during the week where I'd sit on the corner of my floor and bury my face in my hands and just absolutely just explode and cry. Heart-wrenching, ugly sobs. I literally felt my chest shatter and bleed. I never felt so alone in my life. I wistfully wondered what it'd be like to just stop breathing.

What was the worst about all of this the last month was realizing that I had no hope in my life. There was literally nothing in this world to make me feel better or help me pick my mood back up. Absolutely nothing. There were no answers, only questions. I wondered when I'd stop feeling this way and I wondered when I'd start feeling normal again.

Today, on Dec. 31, 2017, the last final 7 or so hours we have left of this year, after walking through all of this pain and looking back on the last 12 months, I still don't feel normal. I still have pangs of hurt inside. I still have doubt. I still feel sad, knowing that my loved ones are about to leave me soon in the near future. I still don't have any plans on how to deal with it. I have absolutely no clue on how I will cope with the aftermath of all of this pain. I felt like I had no guidance.

I cried out to God every single week this year. That's one positive thing I did--because I had such a dumpster fire of a year, I clung to His Word more. I realized that even with all these things happening in my life, I have to praise Him in this storm. I in a weird way, had to thank Him for this storm.

It was this month alone I realized that it is during times of crisis our faith reveals itself at its strongest, if we do it right. Doing it right meaning, seeking God out, being honest with Him, being vulnerable with Him, coming to terms with His decisions and finally, just putting all of your blind faith and trust into Him no matter what happens.

That's what I've been trying to reflect upon the last 24 hours leading up to this End of the Year Post.

I want to point something out.

In my personal life, despite how much I suffered thoroughly the last several weeks, the last 12 months, I had so many questions. I had no resolutions. I didn't want any resolutions. I didn't think they'd be sufficient at all in any way whatsoever to get me out of this storm.

On Friday, I get an email.

It's from one of the managing editors of a major news publication that was just one of a dozen applications I submitted every night the last three weeks, something I did to distract myself. Now, after my breakup obviously it was a lot easier to finally get out of this city, and to search for something new. Not that it'd take my problems away, but it answered at least one question I had in a year full of rejections, heartbreak and failure.

They asked me if I'd like to schedule an interview.

I submitted this application extremely late. By the time I emailed one of the staffers asking which person this letter should be addressed to, he told me that they were already done looking at applications and were beginning to schedule interviews. Not wanting to accept defeat after a defeating year, I doggedly submitted my application an hour later, apologizing for the lateness, but asking them to just give me a chance to get to know me.

One week later, they asked me if they could carve out some time within the next week to get to know me, despite them already throwing out most of their applications. They wanted to make some time for me. Obviously I don't even know if I'll get a new job or not in the coming weeks. But that's not the point.

The point is, despite all that I have been going through, despite all that God already has to deal with, He's giving me a slight nudge.

"Gina, I'm not saying you're going to get this job. Chances are, you might not, and chances are, maybe you will, who knows. But what I'm saying is this: I'm listening. I see you. And I'm letting you know right now that I'm here. I'm right here next to you. Just trust me."

There are absolutely no words to express what that email meant to me. Not necessarily because it has to do anything with my job, but rather, it's one of the biggest signs from God that I received. It means that He hasn't abandoned me, hasn't forsaken me, and is reminding me that He's here, even though I felt the last 12 months that He hasn't been. He's been here next to me this whole time. All I had to do to see Him was to believe in Him.

Despite all the rain, all the storms, all the hurricanes, all the pain I've been dealing with inside, I know that He still loves me, and is watching over me. This isn't about whether I'll get something I want, or try to find a resolution out of this mess, but rather, to keep taking it day by day. To keep my faith intact, no matter what the weather.

Something inside me sparked alive. I cried some more. I had to. I cried out to God. He sees me. He hears me.

He saw me and heard me this year. He said to me, "don't worry about today's troubles. Tomorrow has enough trouble of its own. Just take my hand and walk. Continue to fight. Keep pushing through. Life isn't meant to be easy. The going is tough, and gets tougher. There are days where you'll forget your progress, and crumble again. There are days where you get angry and sad again over situations that were over. There will be days where you forget how far you've come. There will be more tears. But it is during the hardships when I see whether you'll curse me, forget about me and abandon me, or, come running to me and let me do my own thing. Trust me. Give it all up to me. I'll take it off your hands, as long as you believe me."

I chose to do the latter. And I will continue to choose the latter.

Every year I put a theme on something to look forward to for the new year. What's my motto going to be in 2018? What concept do I want to keep starting Jan. 1 to Dec. 31? What is the idea that I'm going to live by for the next 365 days?

"It's in God's hands. Put everything in God's hands.

You have nothing to lose. Push it out. It's in God's hands."

That's right. Now, how am I going to encompass this motto for 2018?

Take the battle scars I bore, the punches, scratch marks, bleeding episodes that I endured during this boxing match of a year, put my own boxing gloves on, put a mouth guard in, and get up to get ready to fight this next round. That's it. It's in God's hands now. He'll take the ball away from me in this football game. He'll draw up the next quarter's play. He'll decide what happens next--whether it's in any areas regarding my future carer, my family, my loved ones, my personal relationships and everything else in between. He's taking away my playbook, He's giving me a new pair of boxing gloves, He splashes a sip of water into my thirsting mouth, squeezes my shoulders, and helps me get up to my feet, as battered and broken as I am.

As the bell finally sounds, He pushes me towards the center of the ring.

It's in God's hands now.

2018 will be in God's hands. Whatever it brings forth, it will be in His hands. All I can do is blindly trust Him and put my faith in Him, no matter how bad the storm.

Happy New Year everyone. Let's all put on our armor, and fight back, fight to survive, fight for love, and keep hope alive. We all made it through this hill, and there's another hill ahead. There will be many hills. But we can keep going. We made it this far, after all, haven't we?

Wishing everyone in the world a much lovelier, profound, healthier and happier 2018. It's going to truly be a meaningful one.