I've been purposefully avoiding my blog for a while (well, as much as I can while still meeting my posting schedule) because I wasn't sure what I'd say that wouldn't be unnecessary or private or just relatively bad. I have times where the voices of fear and doubt and anxiety get too loud and it seems like the best option to give myself a little sanity back is to spill them out into the world. Ask my friends. They heard all about it. Over and over. Ad nauseum.
But this isn't the place for that, most of the time. Sure, I'll use it for that now and then. But this is supposed to be a professional writing place. An adult writing place. This is not the Xanga I kept as a high-schooler.
So instead of posting what was on my mind, I posted almost nothing at all. Enough to let you know I'm still alive, but probably nothing of much meaning to anyone. I'll keep them up, but for no other reason than to just have the schedule I made up met.
Instead, I turned to private journals. Focused on my scripts when I was able to. And, like I said, did a lot of complaining to my friends.
Thankfully, I didn't stop writing, as much as it probably looked like I did on here. It could be that I even wrote more.
We're all going to go through those times where it seems like the bad will consume us. It seems now, looking from this side of it, that the only consolation is the moment when we realize it might not.