Last year was probably among the most difficult of my life. Each day crunched painfully by, like a train laboring and squealing down rusty, forgotten tracks. By the time midnight rolled around on December 31, 2010, I’d stopped pretending. I’m not doing well.
It was The Year of Realizing My Dreams Were Broken.
I published a scant 11 posts on this blog last year. But I actually wrote about double that. Each post was filled with sadness, or anger, or both. I felt like I shouldn’t publish them because people might look at me differently, or because a leader shouldn’t be depressed.
It’s January 2011. I have made no resolutions. I have no expectations. I don’t know where I’m going. I feel exhausted, unconcerned, disappointed, lonely–and pretty invisible.
I don’t know what the answer is. I want things to change. I’m not sure how that will happen. Nonetheless, it is my plan to write more, and to be honest when I feel like crap instead of feeling like I ought to end each post on the upbeat because I’m a Christian.