I’m Sorry.

I’d best get the important stuff out the way:

I am sorry for leaving you in the lurch, midway through a mini-series. I will complete it and tell you all what happened. 

I’m not sorry for taking some accidental and unintended time out. I really fucking needed it before I drove myself nuts. 

I am sorry for not responding to Twitter notifications. I’m also really sorry if anyone was worried about me. (I’m okay, I promise.) 

I’m not sorry for losing my NotSoSexintheCity phone for a few months. My two phones were permanently stuck to my hand at one point, and I’ve kinda trained myself to be slightly less obsessive over them. 

I am sorry for being so worried about commas and semi-colons or starting too many sentences with “I” that I didn’t end up publishing any of my blog posts. (Because even though I haven’t posted them, I’ve still been writing.)

I’m sorry for lots of things.

I’m sorry that I forgot to be a blogger. That I didn’t feel like I was good enough to be a blogger. Like I didn’t have anything worthy to type down for you. The last few months have been kinda tough for me. So tough, in fact, that I didn’t have the balls to blog about any of it. In reality, nothing has happened. Absolutely nothing. Maybe that’s the problem? Maybe I’m just dramatic and mental? I’ll get to that soon. 

I’m kinda back. I think. You’ve probably guessed that from this blog post which, for the record, was really fucking difficult to write. What happened? Nada. I just drowned in my own sorrow and self-pity. I don’t think I realised just how depressed I had gotten until Bear told me I hadn’t showered for 4 or 5 days and I could probably do with pulling a brush through my hair. He wasn’t wrong. I was a mess. I worked from morning till night. Smoked too much pot. Hated everyone. Cut everyone off. Turned truly bitter. Cried a lot. I didn’t leave the house. Well, apart from to go to the dentist. I’ve put off going to the doctor even though I know I need checkups. Important ones, too. I’m overdue a smear now I think. And it’s about time for the ol’ butt cancer check. That’s bound to be lots of fun. I don’t think I can put it off any longer and that’s why I’m here, blogging again. I’m trying to regain some of my normal, old life back. Who I was before I turned into the girl that existed but didn’t live. 

I do want to say that I’m really sorry.

A digital friend of mine recently went absolutely silent on social media and I had no way of contacting her at all. The ways I did have, didn’t go through. I panicked. After being missing for a few weeks, she eventually resurfaced and everything was okay with the world again. She’d been depressed too. But it made me realise something … There might be people worried about me. I just totally disappeared. No blog. No social media. No nothing. 

I’m a cunt. I’m so sorry. I was mad at her for not telling me/someone/anyone that she was okay, and I was doing the same thing. The longer I left it, the harder it became. And then the GDPR bollocks came about and I was truly fucked then. I read and read and read and still didn’t understand any of it. And then, of course, that just made me cry. That’s all I did for a while, about everything — happy or sad. I just cried. All the time. When I was happy, I cried. Not just a tear or two, but lots of them, trickling endlessly and embarrassingly down my face. It was even worse when I was sad, which was an awful lot. I felt worthless. I still do a bit. Another blog post for another time perhaps. 

I have so much to catch up on.

So many blogs I haven’t read. So many lives I’ve not kept up to date with. I’m like that really shit friend who just pops up when she wants something, and that’s just really shitty. What did I turn into? I am trying to rectify the situation, and maybe I’ll post the blogs I wrote. Some of them. Probably not all of them. I had some really dark days. I didn’t realise that until life was a bit sunnier, of course. Reading back over them was like reading something that been written by someone else. Not even the language I used was recognisable to me. 

I think I might have had a little … I don’t know? Breakdown? Bear called it a “slow, gradual shutdown”. I don’t know how else to describe it. I just fell apart. Nothing made sense. Nothing went to plan. Nothing worked. Everything went wrong. Everything broke. It was awful. Disappointment after disappointment, and I was the biggest disappointment of them all. 

I haven’t suffered from my mental health this badly, for a really long time. I got well and truly sucked into a black hole of my own devastation and destruction, but Bear’s pulling me out. We’re still together by the way. Happy. Ish. Nothing bad has happened, but we have faced unfortunate event after unfortunate event, and I’m not so sure that he didn’t fall apart too. Maybe we’re still both falling apart. 

I’ll explain all. I will. If you’ll still listen to me after all this time. Just know that I really did miss you. All of you. And I really missed this blog. I fall apart spectacularly when I don’t have a place to air my thoughts, and for the brief spell that I genuinely considered NOT blogging anymore, I didn’t know what to do with myself. 

Love you guys. Sorry I was gone for so long.

It was fucking horrendous. 

𝕊𝕚𝕩𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕖

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