I am in the process of emerging from a deep depression that has kept me off the Internet, away from the blog, and basically isolated from humanity as a whole. I was in a severe depressive episode for over a year, but over the last few months, probably from about July to September, I was in one of the darkest places of my life. I retreated to my bed, blinds closed, trying to stay in as much darkness as possible. Part of this I think was medication related, part of this was the realization that another summer was passing, and I was doing nothing with it.
Over the past few months, I've scribbled a few notes about things I've wanted to talk about on the blog. I've taken some pictures of things that I felt were worth discussing, and I've saved countless articles and references to mental health, self-care, mindfulness, and a whole lot of bullshit that I'll probably never do anything with.
Keeping the blog was cathartic for me last year, but then became overwhelming. It was not the work of writing that was overwhelming. It was the sense of trying to be truly honest in what I was saying, being more vulnerable than I've ever been, and the fear of hurting other's feelings or being rejected as the useless human being that I so often feel that I am.