I am sorry for my
absence. Not only to those who read when I write (always to thankful to you)
but to myself. Hemingway once said ‘There is nothing to writing. All you do is
sit down at a typewriter and bleed.’ I’ve been fresh out of blood. No ideas, no
substance and no confidence. The thought
of trying to articulate anything was too much, so I gave up. Nothing felt worth
writing about, things became monotonous and each day dragged. I haven’t been depressed these past few
months, more vaguely vacant; a worn out
faded version of who I think I really am. Not much has changed to drag me out
of this lull, apart from a beautiful trip to Barcelona and someone who was kind
when they didn’t need to be. She reminded me how important it is to read words
that resonate with you.
I was reading a comment that someone had posted on a
blog post to a friend, who it seems can have a spiteful streak. After reading
this comment aloud, which was complimentary and kind, he retorted that people only
read my blog and say these things because they feel sorry for me. These words stung me into a silence that has
lasted too long. For a time I debated whether there was truth in his
words. I’ve come to the conclusion I don’t mind so much if there is. Im fairly sure it’s just his opinion, but if
people do feel sympathy for me – well, that’s kind of kind isn’t it? That’s what
I’m going to take from it anyway.
It’s a humbling experience to write and bleed, and agonize
and then publish your darkest moments, your disordered thoughts and the private
elements of your life. It leaves you wondering why you do it, why torture
yourself just to tell a story that happened in a small corner of the world, where
little is worth explaining. And then, as if by magic, it is worth
talking about. Simply because you tell me it is, you feel (or have felt) the
same and in that moment something powerful happens. I forgot that I’ve bled,
and instead there’s a page of memories that mean something to me – a jumble of
words strewn together to form a full truth. Even better, they might mean something
to you.
So, I’m back! I’ll write as often as I can, as honestly as I
can. Thank you for being patient with me. I’m so excited to be a part of this
community again – it is truly terrifying and daunting to write sometimes, but
you all make it completely worth it.
Love xxxxxx
