And then I quietly fell apart

I am writing this instead of lying in bed and crying. That was not working for me. Somehow I made the choice to come back to the living room and get back on the computer.

Back on the computer and back on the blog.

It’s been at least six months.

I kept seeing notifications from the site popping up in my inbox. And I would feel conflicted and uncomfortable. Now I think it’s a good thing, because I didn’t completely forget.

I have slid down from wherever I was six months ago. It’s not good.

I am fighting wars with myself. Battles between shame and avoidance. Introspective campaigns of guilt and fear. There is so much of it and it has dragged me down to dark places. I have woken up tired too many days. I have resented living my life because it demands that I cope with myself… something I can’t seem to manage.

And yet, while sinking, one hand has found a grip on a lifeline. This blog. Even these words. A voice. My voice.

I am rusty, I barely remember how to use the site. Still I want to. There are other outlets I could reach for but this is the one that I think is the most constructive. I am going to review my old posts and see if I can teach myself anything.

I am hoping this is the first of a resurgence in posts. If I can brave it, I may expand on what exactly is going on.

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