Art saved me; it got me through my depression and self-loathing, back to a place of innocence. ~ Jeanette Winterson
I haven’t written in a long time, have I? It feels like an eternity.
My depression is lifting. Little by little, ever so slowly. I’m doing much better.
And I want to write again. I think writing will help speed the process of healing — and if it doesn’t, well, it certainly won’t hurt.
I don’t want this to turn into a mental health blog. I want it to stay funny. But I can’t always find the funny right now, so sometimes you might have some more somber musings here. I hope you’ll all bear with me.
There’s been a lot going on here, with Loving Husband and Sausage and me. We bought a house, and moved into it. I was in a play. I won a gloriously strange mug. Sausage has learned new words, and how to manipulate me into giving him M&M’s. Loving Husband has gone back into the Navy for the next year. Lots of living has happened, with all sorts of things to write about. I’ll try to get to it all.
Thank you so much to those of you who sent me words of encouragement and love, through comments and through email. You have no idea how very much that all meant to me. You know who you are.