It's been well over a month since I last wrote anything here. I'm going to resume soon but I wanted to drop by and give an explanation for this rare, prolonged absence: I've had an incredibly shit time and the anxiety in the fallout has overwhelmed me. Don't get me wrong, I've functioned at work, with family, and with study. I can function when I have to; if anything, I tend to go into 'pragmatic' mode when shit happens. And shit did happen. More shit than I'd dreamed possible in a short space of time. The factory where they manufacture those Ford pills could not create this amount of shit in a year, no matter how profitable the year has been. I'm not going to say what caused me to become stressed, for which I apologise; it's like vague-booking when you post on Facebook how pissed off you are but don't want to talk about it. I'm not ready to talk; it's as simple as that. However, I did want to touch base and try to write.
Anyway, yes; stuff happened, and it kept me busy, stressed, and exhausted. The situation involving this damnable stuff is slowly resolving and improving. Notwithstanding my gratitude that things are improving, I did fall victim to a major bout of anxiety, which prevented me writing. I'm a writer, for the love of Christ, and I should be writing, but it wasn't happening. Of course, I had to catch up on uni work (I'd been granted extensions on assessments, but then I had to do another essay almost immediately after uploading the extended assessment).
Other things happened, like my son finishing Year 12 and commencing his HSC. And I'm a parent, so this is going to stress me.
I hate having the anxiety, but as things resolve, the vile spectre will dissipate like a foul fetid fog in the sun. It's even starting to alleviate somewhat now. But for a while, whilst it didn't stop me functioning in real terms, it has stopped me writing and been a constant torment from which I could not escape. It gnaws at the insides and really impacts upon the enjoyment of life. This current bout is no doubt a response to the trauma we experienced a few weeks ago (yeah, the one about which I am not yet ready to speak), but it's drained my energy.
But tonight, I wrote something. It might have been a piteous pile of bleating, but I wrote something. And you know what? I can write something else again very soon. This feels good.
