It has been such a very long time since I sat down and just wrote dear readers. It feels like it’s long overdue to reconnect with myself and with you (if you’re even still there) through my words, thoughts, and struggles. After all, this is exactly where this blog started more than 15 years ago. But then life happened, the landscape changed and I just stopped. Stopped writing and stopped sharing. I stopped connecting with you and somewhere along the way, I stopped having the courage to share my thoughts and feelings on such an open forum. I prioritized my peace and in so many ways, it feels like I lost my voice.  Afraid of who was looking. Who was reading. Of what you would all think.

I worried about growing my audience. About likes, comments, and shares, about SEO and branded partnerships and pretty pictures and creative videos, and lost myself in that process. I spent so much time focusing on what doesn’t matter that I forgot what does matter. ME! ME and how this blog has always been such a great creative outlet for me.

I started writing 15 years ago as a way to connect with other women walking a similar journey to me, as a way to feel less alone during the lonely and heartbreaking years of infertility. From there my journey morphed and changed into finding my way and my identity in motherhood and so much of that, as well as dealing with the fallout of my infertility bled into writing and talking about mental health.

It’s been years of struggle. Of peaks and valleys in my walk with my mental health. There have been stretches of wellness and times of darkness. I’ve succeeded and failed. I’ve been happy and depressed. I’ve been trapped wading through the thick treacle sludge of depression and soared high, flying light as a feather on the breeze in wellness.

But currently…

I am not ok.

That ugly black dog of depression is slowly clawing his way up my back, reaching forward with an iron fist grip to grasp at my throat and strangle the light out of me.

Depression is experienced differently by everyone. I recognize it in myself by how I respond to life’s challenges. Instead of just being able to take it all in my stride, I find my anxiety ramping up, it reaches higher and higher until it explodes out of me in a loud rage that leaves me feeling out of control and utterly desperate to make it all go away. Whatever it may be.

I hate the person it makes me be. I’m unreasonable and out of control. But this time I think I have managed to catch it just in time, before the free fall into a black pit I’ve felt incapable of crawling out of.

A change in medication and some strong tranquilizers to keep me going until my world can tilt and be right on its axis again.

Till then dear friends.