I haven’t been posting much, and for that I apologize. My real job has been ridiculously busy. But it’s easy to forget what’s important to you, and to sink into the groove (or is it a rut?) that’s comfortable if not fulfilling.
Today I remembered what I had forgotten. I love to write. I miss it. I haven’t turned out a complete story in months. I’ve distracted myself, told myself it was no big deal, made myself busy with work or friends or games. But today something happened, something stupid, and it tripped the memory circuits. My company is locking down flash drive ports on laptops – they’re concerned someone will run off with sensitive data. This means I can’t listen to my music on a flash drive any more. I went out and bought a cheap MP3 player and decided to load a bunch of stuff onto it, including audio books.
I was happily bopping along to The Art of Noise, not thinking much about how much I’ve closed myself off from the part of my life I really enjoy, when all the sudden my audiobook of Stephen King’s IT came on. Oh god…I’d forgotten. I’d completely forgotten about how much I loved that story, how much I loved HEARING stories. And how much I loved telling stories. I’m listening to it as I write this, and resolving that I WILL write more. I’ve cut myself off from my creative side and it has to stop.
It has to stop because I know this is one of the signs of my depression returning. I’ve talked about it before, about the sometimes crippling feelings of emptiness and uselessness I have. I realize now, I’ve been having those sorts of feelings a lot lately. I’ve ascribed it as stress, but it’s not…it’s that dark shadow inside trying to cut me off again. So here I am, not letting it. I’m rambling, but you’ll forgive the crazy guy his babbling when he’s trying to break through the mental walls he’s put on himself.
There are times I look back and I realize how empty my life has been, always because of this darkness, this emptiness. I’ve been fighting it a little at a time, but it’s very, very hard, and of course I’d love to be able to stop for a while. That’s not possible, however, or I fall right back into the depression cycle again. But once in a while I have to realize that my mind is really good at fucking me over. I’d like to say this breakthrough means I can put it behind me forever, but I can’t. I will fail again – I’m only human. Just so long as I never give up.
Oh well! Break’s over!!!