It feels weird to write again. It’s been
over 2 years since I have shared anything on a blog. 2 years, 2 months and 19
days to be exact.
A lot can happen in 2 years.
I read a lot of books, worked a lot of
work, dreamed a lot of dreams, gained new interests, dealt with depression,
anxiety and finally saw my grandmother after 17 years.
I feel like I’ve grown out of this writing
thing.
Where have I been the last 2 years? Who wants to read what I have to say? I’ve
been so brutally honest in the past that is has caused a lot of trouble and
hurt people needlessly.
Depressed that’s what?! Depression is a
dark scary monster. It has sucked nearly all the words out of me, leaving my
soul bare. My creativity has suffered a slow and painful death. It has taken a
very vital part of me. I feel bad if I say I am a writer.
I choose to fight back and tell myself that
I can write again, I can beat the darkness that is draining me. The fact that I
am starting to produce words again in some form is positive sign. I can slowly
feel myself get better. It’s a work in progress. I am healing.
P.S. Haben sie mien do do gesehen?
