New Year

I anticipate that I am only writing this post for myself at this point. I figure enough time has gone by, and people will have quit checking to see if I have updated my blog.

I have had a hard time recovering from the last year of my life. Having a lifelong battle with depression has not helped me succeed in recovering either. I didn't even send out Christmas cards for the first time in 22 years. I would tell the story of why, but, I can't.

Admitting that you suffer from depression is a double edged sword for the sufferer. You can be going along living your life, and the minute something is amiss, there must be something wrong with you, the sufferer. "Are you taking your medication?" is the frequent and oft asked question. As if because you take medication you aren't allowed to get upset ever or that people can crap all over you and you stand there and take it with a smile.

Doesn't quite work that way.

I am trying to dig out. I am irretrievably behind in everything that I do. Let's call a spade a spade. I am imperfect in all that I do. I don't need someone to tell me that I'm not that, it won't help. Don't break into my blog and write for me what you wish I would write. My blog is just that. My blog. If you want to say something, start one for yourself.

This was a spot where I used to feel pretty darn creative and I have lost that. I want it to come back, but it hasn't yet. I still feel really raw and beaten down.

So, if you're still with me, welcome. I anticipate writing something worth reading real soon.