Thursday, 23 February 2017

I AM Still Alive...


I don't think any of my New Year's resolutions were to blog more.  Which is a relief, because... Well, aside from the bedtime stories that go up every week (and which are often written a month or more in advance), I'm not doing so great at the old mass communication, thing...

I don't need to do the whole "life has been tough" schtick.  You've heard it.  You know about it (in sketchy details, because duh, I don't want everything in my life to be online).  So, I'm not about to talk about my woes, don't panic.

But I am going to say that those woes are very much affecting my ability to write.


The trouble with having one major life event that has caused enormous emotional upset is that you can relate literally everything to that life event.  You sit down to write a blog about something and then realise it's something you used to do with someone who you can no longer have anything to do with and you just think "THIS SUBJECT IS RUINED, NOW."  

Either that, or you decide that you want to write an honest blog post about your feelings and the pain you're going through.  And then you open up your blog and realise that your last three or four posts have been you doing exactly that.  Which sucks, because writing is a terrific outlet, but nobody wants to be that person who just pours their misery out onto the page over and over again, so you end up saying nothing, instead.

Or, you decide that you'll try to make a helpful post on the subject of the type of trauma you're going through, in the hope of helping others in the same boat.  Only to realise, a paragraph or two in, that you're nowhere near over it enough to be helping anyone.  If anything, you should be seeking out help from someone else.


So, that's what I'm doing.  In a week and a half's time, I'll be starting counselling.  Because, if the random, sudden onslaught of snotty crying I indulged in at gone midnight last night is anything to go by, this one, emotionally battering life event, is not something I'm going to be able to get over without a bit of assistance.  And I don't feel any shame in admitting that.  Sometimes we need help.  And that's okay.

Perhaps I will end up blogging about the counselling process and what it (hopefully) teaches me.  Perhaps I will rediscover my ability to write about other things and I'll suddenly be posting far more often.  Perhaps this is a road that will take a while to walk, and my writing will have to take a bit of a back seat, whilst I throw myself into building my YouTube channel (which you should totally check out, because I can't be all mopey on camera, so it's generally a fun place to spend your time).

Whatever happens, if there are any regular readers out there, wondering where my lists of weird things, or my rants about the world have gone, just be reassured that they'll be back.  I'm still here.  I'm just putting myself back together.

There is nothing I want to do more - besides making YouTube videos - than write.  I have so many blog ideas, so many subjects I want to get my teeth into...  But right now, there's stuff in my brain that cancels out all of that and makes it hard to do.  One of the most depressing - and ironic - things about being a writer, is that when life is hard, all you want to do is write about it, and that writing often comes really easily.  But, when you've poured your heart out onto the page (or the screen), it's done.  You can't keep doing it, despite it being the only thing you have to say - or the only thing you feel able to say.

So, I will be back to my usual blog-y self in time.  But first, I have to get back in touch with who I was before this all happened.  

I'll let you know when I find her.







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