The Void

It’s been a long time since I have put fingers to keys in this way. I have neglected my duties for far too long.

I could promise to be here every week, but the likelihood of that happening is slim, unfortunately. The reality is that I am more likely to be able to commit to once a month for now. Still. I will try to be better. I always do.

So where to start?

So much has happened in the last three years, but at the same time far too little. The one thing that should have happened is copious amounts of writing, yet that has not been the case. This fact on its own has been damaging in so many ways. It would not be true to say that I have not been writing at all, it’s more the fact that I have been unable to make the time to write as or when I need or want to.

And the reasons?

They are many and varied and, for the most part, most likely , entirely my own fault.

My physical health has deteriorated somewhat over the passing of time. I hold myself fully accountable for this. I should look after myself better, but struggle with not prioritising almost everything over myself. It is a habit that I am currently working on shaking. My mental health would have benefitted greatly from making myself just sit in the damn chair so I could commit to writing at least something, especially on the occasions when the words are screaming to get out. I need to create to be happy. Instead, I self-flagellate (sometimes for months) rather than completing the very work that would make me happier. There was a positive that came from this realisation, though

The bonus that came from this is that I finally signed up for therapy. It was during these sessions (for trauma and OCD) that I was asked if I had been assessed for ADHD. To be fair, it was not something I had considered. Fortunately, my fantastic therapist had me complete the questionnaire and, upon seeing the results, suggested I contact my GP to be referred. I finally managed to do this a few weeks ago. I’ll wait to see what happens, although I appreciate diagnosis can take years.

Through this, I have not lost hope. This is, in large part, due to the support that I have had. My circle is tiny, but I have so much gratitude to those who have helped me through this crazy journey called life.. It is these people who tell me to keep at it, and to sit down and write, and at times I did. I wrote for myself. I scrawled on scraps of paper and in my many notebooks. I let the words flow again, even when my voice was broken and bruised. I learned that even when the words are just for me they matter. Writing is writing, and I don’t love it any less. Even when it’s stuttered.

Now all I need to do is to shake off the shackles of my fear and get back to where I should be.