it has been awhile, my friends. as sam would say, "a lotta water under the bridge."
except that the water is the same creek that i have been wading in forever. my feet instinctively know the feel of the rocks and mud, which should keep me safe from falling but instincts sometimes lose themselves in the mire and then there is nothing there but crashing, splashing, spluttering; and a makeshift bandage placed over the booboo.
once i've dried off.
i'm curious as to why i haven't felt like writing much lately. it could be that my brain is hotwired with action all day long, and my synapses simply need to shut down at a certain point in the night. still, i can't help but have the simmering feeling inside of me that i have something to say again. i think it is the fear of repeating myself or indulging myself or insinuating myself into the realm of blogging again that keeps me at bay.
until tonight, i guess.
lately, i've been alternately amazed and repulsed by the world. it is my challenge not to sink too deep into despair at the state of things. i jumped off facebook again, my love/hate relationship, feeling that my own need for attention had overtaken me once more. i needed the silence. so i spent the few weeks off thinking of all of the people i love and admire who have refused to ride the facebook pony and seem perfectly fine for it. and then i thought of all of the people whom i love and admire who were on facebook, and who i was missing terribly. because, people, the fact is, this is how we communicate now, isn't it? this is one part of it, anyway.
i keep thinking that i'll drag grammie's old typewriter out of the garage and start writing letters again. but what is the good in nostalgia? nostalgia has kicked my ass once or twice before, and it hasn't been pretty. why can't i just give over, without the judgment or condemnation of myself?
why indeed.
anyway, here i am again. i decided to try this again, just because i am in dire need of some kind of self-expression. the kindergarteners are just not doing it for me these days. hell, they don't even listen to me at all anymore. so i jump back on blogger, thinking that someone else will listen, somehow. maybe that person is just myself. i don't know.
i've decided to try to give up my anti-depressants. my doctor has assured me that i can be on them forever--why would i want to get off of them?-- but i find myself having the same thoughts i had when i was wanting to go off the pill. what is my own mechanism like? its been a few years in this medicated state, and i know that i needed them back then, but what about now? i want to be the purer version of me. wiped clean, no filters, in the clear light of day.
unless it turns out that i can't be pure without disaster striking my brain. then, of course, i'll embrace zoloft like the good consumer that i am.
for now, i'm just taking it slowly, weaning myself bit by bit. i've given myself at least three months to do this, because i'm in no hurry. i'm damned curious, is all.
back in the saddle again.
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