Nine months later…
That’s how long ago since I last posted on this site. Since I decided I needed to take a break, especially as I hadn’t posted much over the course of last summer.
I figured it was the best thing to do. I was clearly ‘too busy’ with life or work or whatever to keep things going regularly. I’d felt that I needed to concentrate on other things at the time, instead of spending it writing on here.
Or perhaps I felt I didn’t need this platform any more, be it as an online journal of sorts to ‘talk’ my way through some issue I was having. Or as a way to showcase my writing.
Or that I’d lost my ‘voice’.
And it was all a load of bullshit. Excuses, the lot of them.
Yes, work had become a hell of a lot busier and exhausting, which just ended up being an excuse why I’d pulled away from the world.
Why I hadn’t spoken to or seen any of my friends in months.
Why I wasn’t writing anymore.
Why I hadn’t been getting through my (work authorised) online course.
Why I’d started smoking again and gained even more weight.
Why I started a downward spiral into loneliness and depressive behaviours that fed into my feelings of unworthiness.
Why, for all intents and purposes, it basically seemed like I was giving up on life.
And you know what? I think I was in a way.
I’d convinced myself that nobody wanted to hang out with me, so why bother even trying to reach out to anyone.
That even less people would want to date me, so what was the point of trying to maintain any sort of positive self-image.
That I was going to continue to be stuck in my dead-end job until they forced me out or I died.. whichever came first.
Cheery thoughts, huh?
That’s where I’ve been over the past nine months, more or less. Some days are better than others, but then there are the ones that just make me want to curl up in a ball and cry.
Or the days that make me hate the world and everyone in it for how I seem to feel like I’m ‘treated’. But at the same time, I still wished there was just one person by myself willing to comfort me as I battled my way out of the darkness.
Life hasn’t been a complete barrage of doom and gloom for me these past none months.
I’ve gone on a few holidays (as usual), some better than others. There’s been time spent with friends, and time spent alone. There’s been laughs and tears. There’s been lots (LOTS) of good food and some not so good food.
And through it all, I’d felt like something was missing from my life. That there had to be something that could allow me to focus all this anger, sadness, joy, ennui, confusion, and a million other emotions.
That there was a passion missing from my life that everyone else (seemingly) all appeared to possess.
Was that this blog? My writing? My unfinished novel and story ideas that I haven’t touched in about a year?
I honestly don’t know. And I don’t know if this is my return to my blog or not.
I just know that I felt like writing today for the first time in a very long time.
And it felt great.