This will most likely be my last post of 2016. I originally planned for a long-winded essay about all I want to reflect on 2016, but I realised that it is unnecessary. Not because it is unimportant, but rather because what I have experienced and journeyed through will most likely stay with me for the rest of my life.

As I think about 2016, I believe there are three points that I can take away from the year.

1. Self-confrontation

It has been a year where I had to look at myself in the mirror and realise who exactly am I. I had to face the facts that there are some things in my life that may never change the way I want them to change. Namely my same-sex attraction. One of the more difficult realisations is about letting other people into this inner world of mine, a world I have tried for years to surpress and ignore. It is a world which made me realise that it is a part of me but it does not define me.

2. Thankfulness for friendship

I am blown away at the love that has shown to me over the past year. Never have I been so vulnerable yet so blessed to have people around me who geniunely care for me. In a life where I may never have a family of my own, I found deeper meaning and connection to friendship. It is because of friends who did not cower away in fear at my depression which had helped me to be able to start the road to acknowledging my mental state and reaching out for help.

3. God

There is so much which I had reflected on these past 12 months and nothing has compared to the profound experience I had in understanding the grace and love of God. He had not forsaken me in my depression or my same-sex attraction. And through it, I find myself drawing closer to Him. It has given me a fuller understanding of perserving in Christ and what it means to take up our crosses to follow Jesus.

So with 2016 drawing to a close, I am somewhat still confused at whether or not I made any progress this year. Yes, I believe 2017 will still bring about my feelings of same-sex attraction, and I will continue to struggle with depression. Yet, in the midst of the storm, I can see the light in the distance. I hear God calling out my name, giving me the hope to keep fighting for this life.

I wonder if we can really see the invisible. I know that sounds like a crazy idea but just think, if everyone started to fade away when they withdraw from people, would we be able to notice? 

I often wondered how oblivious and ignorant we are to other people. We often have this perception that we can see what is in front of us, fully naked and vulnerable. Yet, when off to the side, we have no idea what people are going through.

Everyday, people get up and they put on a mask of pride, mask of happiness and a mask of compassion. They go out into the world wearing those masks. Do we really notice the subtle signs that people radiate from their hearts? Not the ones that say I am great, but the ones that say I am drowning in despair and hopelessness. 

We are really invisible to other people, sometimes even to ourselves. We say something for long enough and eventually we believe it.

Sometimes, I wonder if it is worth it. If it is worth the fight to survive, to live. Sometimes, I wonder if I even know what it means to actually live. One of my colleagues asked me yesterday whether or not people can truly be happy. 

I wonder sometimes how we define that happiness. I think about the meaning of contentment, but wonder if that really relates to happiness. I have never met anyone who is truly happy all the time. It is the reality that because of sin, true happiness is impossible in this lifetime.

I feel like the biggest hypocrite saying this. I talk about happiness yet all I can think about in my head is how hypocritical I am and how I cannot feel happiness at all at times.

I really want to say that counselling and medication has helped, but there are some things that I cannot avoid or cut out from my life. With that, I need to feel the pain, and the aching in my heart. It sometimes makes me wonder if it is worth it. For every step I take forward, I get knocked back two or three steps.

I felt so much tears needing to come out, sometimes I cannot control it and the waterworks flow out at the worst of times. I felt like I didn’t matter because I am not good enough. I felt like no one understands my pain because they are oblivious to it. Yesterday, I saw a colleague contempting and I had to ask her if she is okay. I had learnt to always observe others because I had felt the loneliness and the ignorance and didn’t want anyone else to feel like that they don’t matter.

Yet, I feel like a hypocrite, because I wanted someone to care and I wanted someone to drop everything they are doing to care for me. I feel like a hypocrite because I know that the more resentment I feel, the more I care and the more I wanted to cry out without humiliating myself.