Whelp, I can try again in 10 days

We are 9 days away from all those fabulous New Year's Eve bashes, and 10 days away from 2014. Which means that it is about time for me to start thinking of my New Year's Resolution. Usually, it goes something like this:

This year, I am going to lose 10, no 25! pounds by exercising every single day and eating nothing but the absolute healthiest foods. I'm also going to take up meditation, to center my mind, which I will do every morning and every evening. I am going to volunteer my time and talents to an organization I care about once a week. And I'm going to write a book. And keep my house clean. And meticulously organized. And save money. And see friends more. And pick up an instrument. And. And. And.

I joke about people who drop their New Year's resolutions in March. Hell, I don't even make it to noon on January 1st with the extraordinary goals I set for myself. You'd think I would learn. But nope, I'm on the path to making the same mistake again this year. When will I learn that I'm not superwoman? Maybe that should be my resolution for 2014. This year, I vow to be a little lazy and to not put too much pressure on myself to be so perfectly flawless in every conceivable way.

As tempting as that is, my warped brain won't allow me to settle on it. I went another route. I took to Google, and did a bit of research as to what "normal" people plan for their year. Here's what I found:

• Only 45% of Americans actually make a New Year's resolution.
• Only 8% of people who do make one actually achieve their goal.
• But nearly half of the successes are achieved by people in their 20's.
• The most common resolution is to lose weight. (Shocker!)

I am choosing to focus on that third point. Statistically, I have the best chance of making a resolution and following through on it, if it is actually in the realm of possibility. There is a good chance that I may not fall into the 25% that drop their goals in the first two weeks. So, I did a little more research to find out what the most common resolutions are for my age group. I was pleased to find out that I could actually check quite a few off. I have found love. I am more than satisfied in my career and financially stable. I quit smoking years ago. Where do I shift my priorities now?

After a long 45 second debate in my head, I quickly realized that I cannot narrow my goals for the new year down to one idea. But I can contain it to three.

1. Alright, I'm not that original. In 2014, I want to get in shape. I want to drop the weight I put on with these bleepity bleep pills, and I want to tone up so that I don't threaten to stab the mirror when I try on shorts come June.
2. I want to spend the year focusing on my writing. I need to flesh this out a little bit more. Maybe commit to narrowing the focus of my blog and actually contributing to it once a week. Or maybe I want to seriously invest some time on that novel I've been working on. (And by working on, I mean mentioning about once every 2 months. Yeah, progress.)
3. I need one goal that isn't all about me and my dreams. But I need to realize that I might not be able to take on the world. So my third New Year's Resolution is to help Boyfriend achieve his goals in whatever way I can. Whether that means playing an active role in his ambitions or being a cheerleader as he does the brunt work, I can't say yet. But after all the encouragement he has given me these past 2 years to build me up to what I am today, damn, does he deserve it.

I have 10 more days to draft schedules and implement strategies and Google patterns of successful people before this yellow light turns green on 2014. Until then, I have some solid time to do all the bad things I promise not to do in 2014. How many trips to Kopp's do you think I can fit in?

A Starfish Story

Please pardon my lack of eloquence in this post. It is now 6:55 as I sit here to begin writing, and my brain was sufficiently fried by, I'm guessing, 3:17 this afternoon. But let's carry on.

My spark has been reignited. I am reinvigorated to go out and tell my story and advocate for consumers and collaborate with professionals and hold up high the hope that I know exists. I believe that through my writing, and through my continued efforts to keep myself stable and sane, I can make a difference in this world. Maybe not for the whole world, but in at least one starfish's world. (That will make sense in a minute, promise.)

Last night, I said farewell to major player in the mental health community and a dear friend. On paper, Kristina was the CEO and president of Mental Health America in Wisconsin. She is a graduate from Arizona State University with a masters degree in Social Work. She was the winner of the 2010 "Women Putting their Stamp on Metro Milwaukee" Award for growing leadership. But those titles and degrees and awards do not do even begin to do justice to who she actually is.

I want to say it was last July. Maybe August. It is all a little fuzzy. You see, I was a bit troubled, to put it mildly. I was teetering on the edge of sanity, precariously balanced and growing weaker from avoiding falling over. Then Dad gave me a business card, telling me that he was friends with a woman who had a past similar to mine, someone I may feel comfortable talking to. And I cried. I said no. "I don't need help." "I don't want to talk to her." But I reluctantly called the number and even more reluctantly met this stranger at Alterra for a "casual" cup of coffee.

Kristina spoke with a confidence and clarity about her own mental illness in a way that both shocked and calmed me. She didn't look like she could have anything in common with a disaster such as myself. The things she told me paused my racing mind as I wondered in disbelief how someone so successful could have once been in the position I was in. But that bewilderment also planted a tranquil seed that someday I might have a hopeful story to share with someone who's inches away from rock bottom.

Kristina was there for my ups and downs that followed in the months after our first meeting. She led me to resources in the community. She called me when she heard through the grapevine that I wasn't doing well. She invited me to MHA to get experience in the non-profit world. She treated me to lunch when I graduated from my peer support class. Kristina is a friend, but she is also a role model that encourages me through example to not be held down by past or by my illness. I am sad to see her go, but I know that she will be happy with her new soon-to-be husband and life in Arizona. Arizona is lucky to have her.

Back to that starfish comment I made at the beginning of the post. Did you forget about that? At Kristina's farewell dinner last night, someone shared a little story that, in my experience, perfectly captures how she approached the challenges she faced following her passion. It goes a little something like this:

A man is walking along the ocean and 

sees a beach on which thousands and thousands 

of starfish have washed ashore. Further along

he sees a young woman, walking slowly and 

stooping often, picking up one starfish after 

another and tossing each one gently into the 

ocean. 

“Why are you throwing starfish into the 

ocean?,” he asks. 

“Because the sun is up and the tide is going out 

and if I don’t throw them further in they will 

die.” 

“But don’t you realize there are miles 

and miles of beach and starfish all along it! 

You can’t possibly save them all, you can’t even 

save one-tenth of them. In fact, even if you 

work all day, your efforts won’t make any 

difference at all.” 

The young woman listened calmly and then bent 

down to pick up another starfish and threw it 

into the sea. “It made a difference to that one.” 

A little bit sappy? Absolutely. But it damn near brought tears to my eyes last night when I thought of myself as one of those starfish Kristina saved. Emotions were still running high as we drove home, and I thought about it a little more. What if every starfish Kristina threw back for a second chance did the same for one more? Or two more? Or ten more? Let's have her legacy live on, not simply through photographs and stories, but by carrying on her mission.

And that is what energized me to bring back my passion of mental illness awareness to the forefront. I don't know how yet, any ideas are welcomed. But somehow, I am going to join that army of starfish throwers.