Out with the old, in with the new.

As I write this, the last day of 2010 has barely begun.  Three hundred and sixty-five more days can now be logged into the history books.  It makes me think of the phrase with which I titled this post: Out with the old, in with the new.  

As the calendar flipped over to the new year, many will look back on the memories and accomplishments that occurred in 2010.  Some will remember it as the year they lost a loved one, or the year they married the love of their life. But along with the reminiscing will come the anticipation of what is to come in the new year.  Will 2011 be the year you finally lose that weight?  Take that trip?  Find that someone?  

For me, it's bittersweet.  2010 wasn't exactly kind to me, and I want to believe that 2011 has many good things in store for me -- but 2009, 2008, and the end of 2007 weren't kind to me, either.  I want to have hope, but it's starting to slip from my grasp.  

Even so, I'm going through the motions and I'm trying to do what needs to be done to change my life.  As I write this, I'm in the process of vacating my home of the last five years -- out with the old.  I will be leaving the place where, when not at the hospital, I hoped and prayed and cried over the tragic accident that left my dear cousin permanently mentally disabled . . . where I cried after my Gramma passed . . . after Ana passed . . .  I'm leaving behind the 4 walls that made up my 'cave'.  The one I barricaded myself in when the depression hit and overtook my life.  That depression painted itself on the walls, piled itself on all of the surfaces of my apartment, and never let me forget it was there.  

In with the new . . . I'm typing this from the living room of my new apartment.  Many might think it's a big step down, but I disagree.  Sure, it's about a fourth of the size of my old one, but it feel so much more like progress.  It feels like attainable goals and baby steps.  It doesn't feel like a cave.  

So, while I still have a hard time feeling true hope for 2011, I haven't given up on trying anyway.  

Goodbye, 2010.  I'm not going to miss you.