I’ve been struggling for some time with how exactly I’m going to present this or what exactly I’m going to say. . . As a writer, I know I should know be able to present my feelings in a clear, concise way that makes everything swirling around in my brain understandable to myself and whomever reads these words.
But I can’t.
God, I can’t do it. . . I don’t have the words– the Rosetta Stone, if you will. For someone who attempts to make a living with words, I’m really bad at it when it comes to emotions, hey?
I’ve been struggling for some time with that feeling of ‘I’m never going to get out of this’, compounded by the thought that my laptop, my only option for making any kind of money, and if I’m being honest, my connection to the world at large, is going to fail me. This, after a scare earlier when my lcd panel cracked. . .
It’s depressing. It’d gotten to the point a couple times where I started looking at the things I have with me and I started looking at alternative uses for them… I don’t like being that person. I don’t like thinking that way, and I don’t want to consider the ramifications if I did something stupid. That’s not /me/ god dammit.
I’m sorry I haven’t been around to put more work out, but my muse has been taking a vacation on me. . . I’ve tried wrangling the bitch back under control several times and it just refuses to come. . .
Between the depression and the lack of creative juices, I’ve been having a hell of a time getting my head straightened out. I’m still trying to work on it, but. . . it’s hard. It’s hard to stay focused, it’s hard to remember what it is I’m after sometimes and, more than anything, it’s killing me to try and find the soul to /write/.
With Robin Williams’s suicide, we’re given a very poignant reminder what depression can do if left unchecked. But, by the same token, we need to understand that by asking for help, we’re putting a huge burden on the person we’re asking to help us. . .
I have no point with this post except to say that I’m alive and only by the grace of my girlfriend, the -very- kind words and help I’ve been offered by friends and supporters alike, I’m alive and I’m fed… healthy as can be given the circumstances, and trying my damndest to get something written for you folks.
Seriously, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I don’t deserve it. . . But I will never forget it. Thank you.
A million times, thank you.