The first half of the year was… fine. Typical. There was a small health scare with a family member, but everything turned out okay and life kept moving along as expected.
Then summer hit.
I got laid off.
Not devastating because I loved the job, I was already planning a transition but devastating because it was ripped out from under me in the most unexpected, childish, and frankly belittling way. But we’re not dwelling on that. Let’s call it a blessing in disguise.
Except the disguise didn’t stop there.
About a month later, my husband injured himself at the gym. He was out of work for months. No extra income. No backup plan. Suddenly, we went from two solid incomes, to one good income, to one very average income. Great.
What followed were months of fighting, first with unemployment, then with the IRS. We had to pull our toddler out of an incredibly expensive school program that probably would have saved my sanity. And we did all of this alone. No village. No support.
This lasted for months.
Our family was tested.
My marriage was tested.
My patience completely disappeared.
Why can’t anything just work out?
If I’m being honest, I haven’t been the best mom or wife since losing that job. Not because I loved it, but because I am a very structured person, and that job and routine had been part of my life for nearly ten years. Everything revolved around it. I got comfortable. Complacent, even. When it disappeared, I spiraled and I’m not entirely sure that spiral is over.
I stayed in school, but everything felt harder. We couldn’t afford childcare, so I tried to do all the things, keeping the house together, managing life, holding everything up but I was constantly stuck. I started substitute teaching, but without consistent childcare I had to turn down a ton of jobs. On top of that, I didn’t even get calls for the first two months because, apparently, it’s all about who you know and I didn’t know anyone.
We were sick for months after my toddler started on-campus childcare on the days I had class. I was miserable every single day living this life.
It’s still hard. I can’t say I’m happy yet but I’m working on it.
The holidays came and went, and they were so fucking depressing. We don’t have a village. No one made the effort. Everyone expected things from us when we were struggling the most.
I have been more depressed than I’ve ever been in my entire life. And I truly think it affected my marriage and my life over the past few months. Communication was nonexistent. Everything turned into a fight. Everyone in the house was irritable. It was hell.
I couldn’t let go of negativity. If something upset me, it ruined my entire day. I didn’t want to be around anyone.
Today is the first day of 2026, and those feelings are still here. I’m still depressed about our situation. I’m still angry that my routine was ripped from me. I still haven’t found my footing in a new one. I’m still angry that I have to handle even more now that I’m working again and I resent those responsibilities.
And I’m still angry that I haven’t been happy for months. Worse, I blame myself for not pulling myself out of it.
Looking Ahead
What I hope for in the new year isn’t a complete 180 or instant transformation. I hope to build routine anchors that don’t revolve around temporary things. I hope to prove to myself that I am more than an employee that I can live a happy, full life without letting others dictate what does and doesn’t make me happy.
Things will still be hard. Probably for a while.
But I can do hard things and still be happy.
I don’t have to let people or jobs drain me. A job isn’t a life it’s a source of income. Your life and happiness should come first, and everything else should fall in line around that.
The last half of 2025 completely broke me.
I expect the first half of 2026 to be about picking up the pieces—slowly—and building a happiness and a life that no one and nothing can take from me.
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