2019 word of the year; FAILURE

Woah, 2019, you were okay there for a second and then, like, yikes.  I normally choose a word at the beginning of the year to focus my efforts on.  This year I didn't and welp, jokes on me.  This year I've failed more and harder than literally any other time in my life.  I'm not exaggerating and I wish I was.

I failed as a mother

I failed as a wife

I failed my health

I failed as a teacher

I failed as a student

and probably also failed as an artist but

at least I didn't stop.

Not once did I quit any of the items listed above, I pushed through each and every one of them to my own stubbornness.

As a mom I yelled, more than I want to admit, I got frustrated, I got angry, I threw away toys, I broke thing I was trying to fix, I neglected special events and occasions because I wanted to accomplish more. I missed school functions because I took on more teaching hours this year.

I failed as a wife after convincing my husband to go back to school, I got caught up in my commitments and neglected our home.  I didn't have time to sweep or mop or do dishes, sometimes I cooked but usually I cheated with frozen foods, still organic, usually.  I was to tired to stay up late with my partner, I was focused on my goals and my future and disappointed him too.

In august, I found out I wasn't crazy, and my health was failing, I found a doctor who ran the right tests and got the results that we could see and treat. I worked myself into sickness in the spring and tried to recover all summer but couldn't do it alone. I'm still recovering but learning I can't push myself like I used to, I am a powerful being, but sharing my power with those who don't appreciate it depletes it instead of recharging it.

I was really excited for my new teaching hours this year, full time, one place, but turns out that was too much, too.  After trying my best to stay energetic and inspirational for the first few months, I slowly slipped into exhaustion once again, kids who were disappointed in me or my projects, kids who didn't want to put forth effort, it just made showing up harder and harder.  This past week culminated in some really icky feelings about the whole thing, hurtful comments from 'concerned' parents. It just felt like no matter what I did for anyone, it wasn't enough.  I wasn't enough.

We've been in financial survival mode for the past couple years since Husband's family's business went under, and I finally felt like we were in recovery mode and I could start working down the debt we owe.  But alas, with the stress of financial burden hovering over me, I had the constant feeling I needed to do more and over extended myself with each yes.  It cost me my credibility, my creativity, my life force just slowly started slipping away, not to mention the bureaucracy of academic settings.

Speaking of academic settings, I tried to take a class online for a class I knew I should take in person.  I read the reviews for the professor (F) and chose to take the class anyway.  Because it was the only one that fit my over packed schedule.  I read chapter after chapter, slide after slide and still did terrible test after test.  The professor didn't post one lecture with her speaking, only slides, no assigned problems to practice, just the few samples in the books or a handout with one or two sample questions with answer keys with no work, then completely different ones on the tests. I thought about dropping but really wanted to be optimistic.  So, I kept going, some content stuck some didn't and I ended up missing the final to pick up my sick kid from school.  Ended with a W which isn't the worst thing but still feels like a fail.

As an artist, my work now feels trite and overdone.  Nothing I make feels original.  Everything I make I feels like something I've seen before.  I lost my source of inspiration.  I don't have 50k followers to eat up every piece of trash I produce.  I stopped doing artist markets because I was sick of the consumerism of material items.  I stopped painting for myself because I couldn't find time.  I stopped gardening.  I stopped baking.  I stopped hiking.  I stopped camping.  I lost all of myself to making more and doing more and working more for money to pay back to people who don't care about me, my health or my family.

I don't know what the point of all this rambling is,  I probably shouldn't share it, it's so personal but in failure is release.  It's liberating.  It connects you with your support system, you see the value in yourself reflected back from the people cheering you on.  And those people know who they are. You gain wisdom from those who share your energy.  My friend recently told me, "you know this already, but this feeling happens when there's growth, it always feels like this when you're growing.  You're going to be so powerful when this is over.  This is happening so you can be more powerful."

to which I replied, "but I don't want to." the same thoughts I had in labor, the same thoughts I had after my first big heart break, the same thoughts I had when I had to quit a job that was killing me, I've never been good at breaking up.

and of course she laughed and responded, "But you to.  YOU HAVE TO BE MORE POWERFUL."

I know it's not a choice anymore, I know these lessons have been hard, like the hardest, and the anxiety isn't helping, but at least I can reflect.  I can restart.  I can keep going.  I can see so clearly now what needs to change.  I don't need to prove myself to anyone.  I'm going to keep making art.  I'm going to keep teaching those who want to learn.  I'm going to keep being the best mom I can be.  I'm going to see what opportunities are waiting for me in 2020 and I'm going to step into my power.

I don't have a choice.