Don’t Mind Me. Just Tearing Down Some of My Walls.

I’ve been avoiding making eye contact with the WordPress button on my Bookmarks bar.

“If I don’t look, then my blog doesn’t exist. If my blog doesn’t exist, then I don’t have to write anything, or be forced to acknowledge the fact that I haven’t written anything in two whole weeks.”

I looked. *sigh*

The fact is, I haven’t had a damned thing to say. Well, I’ve said plenty…”Put that down! Stop licking the dog’s face! Are you supposed to be jumping on the couch? Go to sleep! Get you own damn water and get back in bed! Don’t make me come in there!”..etc.

I know, I know…Momma of the Year material right here. What can I say? I get cranky when I’m internalizing shit.

But anyway, I wasn’t writing because I felt like I had to be funny or at least mildly amusing, and I just didn’t have it in me. I didn’t want to show the side of me that gets sick, or hormonal, or depressed, or nearly crippled by anxiety. And that’s where I’ve been. Welcome to Melancholy-ville. Population: Me.

You know what though? This blog isn’t supposed to just be about me being quirky or funny (even though I am…damned funny, even). It’s about me. All of me. Including the yucky parts. So…from this moment on, I am devoting this blog to the messy truth of my life.

Prepare to be dazzled. You may want to shield your eyes.

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