Dear Dazai,

I’m not dead. Which is probably quite surprising given the amount of time I took away from doing this with no notice whatsoever. I’d make excuses about being busy and things to do, people to see and obligations to live up to, but honestly, I needed it.

Even though I find this whole process quite cathartic, in that it helps me deal with some things that I’m finding troubling at the time, but at the same time I felt as I’d got to a stage where I was too concerned with who was reading it and I couldn’t be honest. And for me, honesty is a big part of being successful with this.

So I wanted to take some time and really think about what I wanted to do moving forward. Did I want to continue with it as it was, do something different and perhaps leave the blog side of it alone. I have a journal I write in that I’m able to be much more honest with, so I thought perhaps that it might be a good idea to go back to that. Permanently.

I haven’t made a decision, but I did decide that I wanted to keep doing this while I made a decision. It is useful, albeit occasionally stressful, but more so, I just like doing it. It also encourages me to write with more regularity which was something that I really fell behind with at the end of the year.


New year.

I’m not a fan so far.

We always tell ourselves these wonderful lies about how we’re going to reinvent ourselves for the year ahead, only to continue with the same patterns we’d been holding on to. But surprisingly in 2018, I did a lot of things I told myself I wanted to do.

I started working out regularly, and have for 2019, upped it again. I was going three days a week, I’ll now be doing five. I wanted a piece I wrote to feature in an actual, proper, publication, and I did that too. I started a blog, that I mostly kept up with. I started a business, that is slow going but I’m trying to be positive about. I started two new stories, and I promise that I’ll finish at least one this year. I travelled. I ate good food. I spent time with people that I love.

All in all, despite the larger worldwide catastrophes I have little control over, 2018 for me, wasn’t a bad year.

Yet, all I seem to be able to focus on is the bad. Even New Years Eve, which was exactly what I’d hoped it would be; me, Eliza and Nathaniel doing absolutely nothing, watching movies, eating Thai food and watching the most impressive lightning storm I’ve seen in years roll in, left me feeling hollow. And knowing that too.

I love quiet NYEs, I like spending time with two of my favourite people in the world and I got to the end of it, and found myself apologising for feeling really meh. It’s a horrid feeling, especially when you know those things ordinarily bring you so much joy.

So that’s where I’m at. I’m still having a lot of anxiety about various things, but that’s now precariously balanced with this sense of numbness that’s threatening to overwhelm me.

So here’s to 2019.

Let’s hope it gets better.


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