A letter to this past year.

Dear Past Year--

I think it's time we have a little chat. Now, don't worry, this is not a completely negative letter. I don't totally hate you. I just have some things I need to say to you. Things I've been waiting to say to you.

First of all, thank you. 

Thank you for taking away some things that needed to be out of my life. Including that pesky gallbladder; fist bump on that one. Thank you for taking some people that were doing more harm than good. Thank you for making me realize that I can, in fact, live without people who I once believed would be around forever. And thank you for taking away some expectations that I was holding onto too tightly. 

Thank you for showing me that I'm stronger than I ever realized. And thank you for helping me realize who can remind me of that when I can't do it myself.

Thank you for helping me find a doctor who believes me. And believes IN me. And thank you for helping me find a friend who helped to get me there. 

Thank you for building my cheering squad. And thank you for helping me realize who really isn't on my team.

Thank you for keeping me alive. That probably should have been the first thing I thanked you for. That, ultimately, matters the most. And also wasn't an easy task, I know. 

But...don't get too comfortable with the accolades. I also kind of hate you. 

I hate the fact that you took me on such a rollercoaster ride but also left me stuck in the same place. I hate that I am still stuck in between so many things. And I hate that that feels so comfortable and so awful at the same time. 

I hate that you didn't bring me remission. No matter what I do. No matter how many new medicines I let them put into my body. No matter how many tests, scans, surgeries, and appointments I go to. No matter how hard I wish for it. I hate that it still feels so far away. 

I have so many mixed feelings towards you, past year. So many wonderful reasons to be grateful. But also so many legitimate reasons to be frustrated and angry. We went through a lot together, you and I. But when it comes down to it I'm glad to see you go. 

Thanks for another 365 days. But please grab your things and get out. 

A little bit of love, I guess,

Leigh