OldGuy's Tree House

Is it “two steps forward, one step back” or “one step forward, two steps back” ?

Today it feels like the latter.

So here I am after almost a month of debating how to really start the new blog. I guess I should explain.

First of all, when I had the old blog I often neglected it if I was feeling rough.  Although blogging about things that were bothering me was therapeutic it sometimes took me quite a while to put thoughts down on paper (sort of) if I was going through a difficult time. It was like I had to sort things out in my mind first. Also, I was often hesitant to  write about certain things because, well, you never know who could be reading.

But here’s the thing, or things. For one, my son got me this blog because he wanted me to start writing again. I was fairly good at it, and it was an outlet when I needed one. Also, when I finally got around to putting my thoughts down I usually felt better.

So here it is, and whoever is reading can think what they want. I went through a rough patch last spring and winter. Things got bad, and then they got worse and one day I woke and decided I wanted to kill myself. It seemed like the answer to all my problems. And the more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it, until I would lie awake for hours at night thinking about it. And it just seemed to make so much sense. Yeah, I would leave people behind and they would feel pain but my pain would be over. No more fighting against the current, no more feeling so totally unmanned I might as well put a skirt on in the morning, no more sitting in the dark for hours crying and praying for a heart attack because I didn’t have the “guts” to do it myself (although I was getting there). And the feeling of despair is simply overwhelming at that point. I’ve been through a few rough patches in my life (who hasn’t) but this was different because it went on relentlessly. Interestingly too (and I discussed this with a counselor) I was not only feeling like I wanted to die but also convincing myself that it was the best thing to do. I was trying to talk myself into it. When I asked the counselor if it was possible to talk yourself into committing suicide she assured me it is.

Fast forward a few months. What’s changed ? Well, I don’t want to kill myself anymore. Some of the issues that led to me feeling that way remain and I’m dealing with them (in my own way). I’ve been on medication for a while and it seems to have helped. I laugh again and last weekend, for the first time in months, I decided to do something constructive around the house (for a long time I simply didn’t care and would have been perfectly happy if the place had burnt to the ground; not my family, I love them deeply, but the house itself).

As to the issues that led to me feeling the way I did, I won’t discuss them here, at least not right now. But who knows, maybe one of these days.

As an aside, I’ve gotten into photography over the last few years, but even that fell by the wayside for a while because I couldn’t see the beauty in anything.