That’s how long I’ve been keeping a journal. Oh, the entries haven’t been daily, weekly or even monthly, but for the last quarter of a century I’ve been scribbling my thoughts illegibly into some notebook or another. However for the last six months, I haven’t felt much like doing any writing. Writing requires thinking, and I haven’t wanted to do much of that either.
Frankly, the last six months have sucked. Hard. I’m in the midst of a suicide watch triple crown: I was let go from my job (October); my father passed away in my arms (Dec); and last but not least, our landlord has decided to kick us out (homeless as of July). It’s not that I don’t know I need therapy (or medication); I just need the lottery winnings (okay, the job and consequential health insurance) to make it all possible.
So, yeah, if I haven’t been around in a while, it’s because I’ve been trying to keep the screaming in my head to a minimum.