I have no official “beautifully written” post today, other than to say:

I can’t believe it’s been a year since I almost died!

I have never been much of a Christmas person. I actually really don’t like the holidays. But I feel like, for the rest of my life, this “cheerful” season will come and go with lots of extra weight for me. I can look at it in a positive light— I survived the worst thing that could have happened to me. But I just can’t help it. Walking around Philadelphia and remembering how much I was struggling with each step, how much I was [probably] pretending like everything was okay.

That crazy night in the hospital.

And every night I spent in the hospital afterwards, throughout the holidays, just hoping that this was all a dream and that everything would go back to normal soon enough.

As humans, we naturally associate memories with certain times, scents, feelings…

And I suppose this will be my forever association. And as the years go on, the holidays will slowly become an easier time for me. But I am only human, right? ;)