If you’re not into angsty self-pity, look away now.
I don’t know why it’s taken so long to write, and I don’t know why I’m writing now. Maybe it’s time to stop feeling sorry for myself. The fact is, sometime around mid-June, I broke down completely. There were a few incidents that happened in my personal life that were minor enough not to even warrant recording, but in combination were enough to bring a very personal realization to a head. It’s nothing that can be fixed, nothing that I can talk to anyone about. That’s a lot of the reason why I secluded myself from the world.
I tried moving on after a month, but that turned into two months, and now I’ve finally decided after over four months that I want to try in earnest to function again. Actually, that’s not true; I don’t really want to do anything. I’ve been in bed for practically the entirety of the past few months, and I’d be perfectly happy (well, happy is perhaps too strong of a word, but you know what I mean) to stay there forever, but I know I can’t. I guess that’s the core of my depression: I’m never going to have what I want. But somehow I have to find a reason to carry on with life regardless. I haven’t found my reason, and I don’t know how, but I’m fairly certain I’m not going to find it while sleeping 14 hours a day. Call it a hunch.
So for now, I want to try getting back to normal. Maybe a part-time normal. Occasional blog posts when the mood strikes me, perhaps not treating the social media folder on my phone as if it would burn me if I were to touch it. This is the first holiday season since starting Molly Rose Balms that I have no scheduled events, and honestly, I hate it. But I’d hate to have that hanging over my head right now, as well. Other than that, I don’t know how to move on. I don’t know how to want to move on. I don’t know how to be excited for the future. I don’t know how to want a future. It’s something I’m going to have to figure out on my own.
Well, that’s it, really. Leave ’em with an unsatisfyingly cryptic explanation and move on, I always say. It’s the best I can do, I’m afraid. I’m hoping to have another post up by the end of the month, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Thank you for reading this and for sticking with me, whether or not you’ve forgotten I was there. I can’t make any promises as to whether it will have been worth your while or not, but I certainly hope so.