Welcome Back, Here We Go Again…

Welcome back! 2018 was not my year. To be completely honest, it sucked. So, here’s to making 2019 great. Or at least maybe I should just focus on making it better and a lot less sucky.

Getting Back To Work

Today I logged on to my blog dashboard. Something I hadn’t done since October.

October was when shit quite literally hit the fan in my life and I all but fell apart into a trillion tiny pieces of the being whom I used to be.

That was my last post…October. Three months ago now. That was also the last time I even touched my laptop (except to upload pictures from my phone) and the last time that I looked at anything to do with my blog. It fell to the wasteside because I was facing so much that I could barely even make it through a day without exploding or having a massive brain fart or breaking down in hysterics and a lot of days all three happened.

I needed a break. Not just from my blog because honestly it wasn’t causing me issues, but I needed a break from life and everything it was throwing my way at 115 mph. Of course I didn’t get that break because I’m a mother and a wife and we don’t get vacations or holidays or even a 30 minute lunch break. So while attempting to take a mental break from the verge of becoming insane I continued on with daily duties.

Falling Backwards

Life had caught up to me. The stress of constantly being sick and in pain and the feeling of overwhelming fatigue topped with the stress of bills and bills and bills was eating at my sanity. All the while I was also losing it because of dealing with everything that came with 5 kids…drop offs and pick ups at school, programs, homework help, needing money for this that and the other. Then we add cooking, cleaning, laundry, dishes, on and on and on. And well…I kind of felt like Genie in Aladdin…”Poof, what do you need…poof, what do you need…poof, what do you need?!”

And then it was November. It had snuck up on me again. November and December, the worst months of the year for me. My depression months.

That’s not to say that every month I don’t experience depression because I do. But November is when it slowly starts creeping back in and planting deeper roots. By Thanksgiving it’s generally clearly visible that I have depression because by the 11th month of the year, after holding it all in and hiding it all so well for so long, those bad days come.

They come every year, just like clockwork no matter how hard I wish them away or I try to skip over them or I imagine they didn’t happen. They still come.

Worst Days Ever

November 12th and December 21st

2009…November 12th, the day my maternal grandfather died.

2011…December 21st, the day my paternal grandfather died.

Even 9 and 7 years later those days still haunt my thoughts. I remember every thing that happened those days. I remember it all and I wish I could forget. Then the depression worsens. And by Christmas I’m thanking all that is holy that the year is almost over and that I can attempt to start healing myself again for another 11 months until those days roll back around.

So this is my attempt to get back to normalcy, if there even is such a thing.

Ready, Set…

March of 2018 I took a huge leap. I put everything I had into getting myself out there and publishing my writing. Whether it was fiction or nonfiction, hilarious or saddening, I told myself that I was going to write again.

I had always loved writing, even from a young age. In high school I wrote poetry, probably hundreds if not thousands of poems. I wrote short stories and plays. I even occasionally put my thoughts to song, which was awful because I didn’t know the first thing about writing a melody or anything despite knowing how to read music and play a handful of instruments.

But I was doing what I loved. And many years later I was determined to do it again. Not for anyone else like I had done so many times in the past. This time it was all for me and even though the thought of love and adoration by the masses is an amazing one, I didn’t care how my writing was perceived because it was MY writing and it was for me. I wasn’t writing for a homework assignment or to please some teacher in school. I wasn’t writing to give it to a friend or boyfriend. This was all for me, but of course if I could help someone along the way too that would be awesome.

JUMP!

In taking this huge leap, off of a 6000 foot cliff, I wrote about illness and pain. I wrote about my kids and my family. I wrote about me.

It didn’t get a million views and it didn’t make me a single penny. But I wrote it. I said things that have stewed in my mind for decades. I wrote things that I could probably never actually say except for in the virtual world. And I’m not done. Not even close.

There are about three-hundred million other thoughts and ideas and views rolling around in this brain of mine and let me tell you, they’re going to make it out one way or another. Damn straight about that. I may not be loved or even liked, but that’s ok because I am so used to rejection and failure that it pretty much doesn’t affect me anymore.

Let’s Do This

So here we go. A new year. The same old me. Just a little more focused and verbal and a lot more determined than ever before. Hold on to your britches, it’s going to get bumpy!

 

EDIT: I wrote this post on January 3rd. Since then it has been sitting in my drafts just waiting for me to be able to focus and work. Thankfully I’m finally able to share this.

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