I've been taking care of me for a while now. Stopped writing for the longest, because the honesty and fear of said honesty was looking me in the face every time I picked up a pen or stared at a blinking cursor. It's true, that my fingers betray who I am all the time; they tell what I'm thinking, by either fidgeting, writing or giving the finger. :)
How have you been? Been good? You look good.
Me? Oh, I've been going to therapy after having an emotional breakdown and feeling like life just wasn't worth going through anymore. Stopped listening to music. Stopped singing. Stopped writing. Stopped...everything at that time. I was afraid. I was spiraling and turning into this person I couldn't recognize or reason with and this person I was turning into was scary. Dark, and just...not who I am. So, I got help. Meds (which I'm now easing off of) and an amazing therapist have brought me back around to who I am.
I've missed this. Even though I'm not sure if any of you are there, if any of you are reading me and learning who I am. Even though I'm not sure if what I write hits deaf ears (or, in this case, blind eyes), I missed speaking my truth into the void. Letting some of it go is the sweetest freedom for me.
Give me a chance to reintroduce myself. I feel like I've changed, and maybe, if you've been seeing me around, or if you just go back after this very post and read everything I've ever written, and note the difference from this point forward, you'll see it too.