Yes, I still exist. Yes, I do remember I have a blog. Yes, I do miss writing here.
I'm finding writing difficult, these days. My work days have me up between 5:45 and 6:30am, depending on the day, out the door by 7:25 (at the latest) and home between 5:45pm and 6:30pm...depending on the day. There is a span between Tuesday evening and Thursday evening that I usually don't even see Yo Momma...and we live in the same house! The last thing I
The weekends aren't much better. Being a true introvert, my Saturdays are usually spent trying to recharge so that I can call up all the energy I need to pretend to be an extrovert for work on Monday...and church on Sunday. Add in the weight of grief and depression I've been dealing with for awhile now, and well, I just don't want to think very hard on the weekends either.
The time that inspiration does strike I'm usually either,
- In the car driving to or from work.
- At work.
Actually, a lot of things, and people, sit waiting for attention. I just don't have the energy, mental, physical or emotional.
I've struggled with the guilt of seemingly letting people down. It is difficult to navigate the road of other's expectations and my own mental and emotional health. I've had people try to shove guilt on my head and I've had people look me in the eye and say "You have permission to focus on yourself, to take care of yourself." I'm trying to listen to the latter group. What I realize is that I am not the person I was in April 2014. I've changed...life has changed, not just in the last year but in the last three years...and I can't go back to being the person I was.
I'm wounded. I'm healing. The scars are still fresh and painful to the touch. I'm waiting for the day when they just ache but that's still a long ways off. Until then, I get by the best I can. It's all I can do at the moment...and that's enough.