What three words would you use to describe the last three months of your life?

Pretty fucking depressing**

**This year started with the husband losing his job, and has migrated through multiple stages of misery including a persistent health issue (currently 16 months in and no closer to a diagnosis), and a new job that has required way too much exertion for what I get paid, and has recently ended with losing an uncle and a close family friend in a matter of days. 

I want to make the next three months count more.

PS – these word limits piss me off. I write for a living, and know how to be concise, but limiting myself to three works is an exercise in futility. Ultimately, editing to the point of losing all meaning is pointless and reduces the art of writing to nothing but a gimmick. 


What confuses you?

It’s been 4 months. A third of a year. One-hundred-and-twenty-ish days since I last posted on this blog. When I closed the lid on 2012 I thought that I would also sign off of this blog forever. Not because I dislike this blog, or feel disconnected from it, but because it was a reminder to me of a year that I really wish I hadn’t lived. 

2012, as I have touched on previously, was a terrible year. I am still trying to work out why it was so terrible, but terrible it honestly was. So, 2013 was a new start and a new year and a chance to just go out and be all the things that I wanted to be. I had unburdened myself from a job that was bad for my soul, and I was looking forward to starting a new journey, and putting this blog to bed seemed a part of that.

Well… I couldn’t let it go. I have compulsively checked in on these pages, almost daily checking stats and everything. I feel beholden to it. Probably because it’s unfinished. I have not-so-secret problems with lack of closure, stemming from a teenage relationship that ended abruptly. I have found myself laying awake thinking about all those questions just hanging out there… the good ones, the ones I was saving for a long, rainy afternoon. The ones about my childhood – oh yes, those are going to be epic – and the ones about love. Just thinking of those questions, itching to start writing them down.

And so, here I am, confused about why I’m even still here. This is an endless task. A thankless task. I am laboring under the star of anonymity, having shared too much personal stuff to really show my blog to family and friends (although I know a few of you are out there…). But I’m here. Damnit. I’m going to finish this blog.

Hold me to it, slowly. I am going to start with tiny, coltish steps. Unfortunately writing for a living leaves little brain space for non-work related words. I need to break that habit. It’s a Sunday night and I’ve spent 11 hours of the last 2 days writing, and none of it was for me. That needs to change. Am I being foolish to think, again, that this blog might cure me of that? Who knows. It confuses me. I confuse me. This whole project confuses me.

Lets see where this goes…