2017 was a rough year for me. I finished uni, had two break ups on top of each other (polyamory problems, am I right) and saw my mental health plummet. I found myself basically homeless and jobless with most of my possessions jammed into a friend’s garage. All in all things were looking pretty damn bleak. But, as the Robinson family motto states- faith is everything. I am spiritual but I knew some form of god wasn’t gonna save me from this mess. I wasn’t expecting a miracle. The latter part of 2017 was all about building myself up. I got a job, stumbled upon a room I could rent and continued building my relationship with my wonderful girlfriend. I kinda ignored my mental health problems, but we will come back to that later. Throughout all of this I was also ignoring something else, something that has been so important to me all though my life that it seems crazy that I just let it fall to the wayside. I didn’t write. I barely even journalled and didn’t even try to blog or write poetry. I attempted Nanowrimo in November but that never got finished as my life suddenly got busy and I forgot to make time for it.
Christmas happened, New Year flew past and January kinda blipped by. A lot of shit went down with me during that time but I’m not gonna go into it now, maybe someday. By February I was getting pretty fed up about feeling down and anxious all the time so I dragged my ass to the doctors and accepted a prescription to try some different antidepressants. Like many people, I don’t have the best track record with antidepressants and was somewhat reluctant to try these out. Part of me was scared I would have horrible side effects like before and part of me was worried that I would somehow lose a part of myself. How silly is that? I thought that by being happy, stable and functioning I would lose a part of what made me me. And in retrospect maybe that is true, maybe I have lost some of me but losing things isn’t always a bad thing. Some things can bear being left behind.
Because of these concerns it took me until the star of March to actually pluck up the courage to start taking the medication. But I did and some of my fears were realised. March was spent in a near constant state of extreme fatigue. I was taking naps all the time and even a 3 hour shift would wear me out completely. But I persevered and that brings us up to date. April has just started, the fatigue is fading and spring is coming. I finally feel like I’m regaining parts of me that I thought were long gone. I want to read, to write, to take photos, experiment in the kitchen, go on long walks and most surprisingly I’m craving my own company. This year I’ve barely spent a night alone because being alone with my thoughts has been torturous. But with the help of some meds and a ton of determination I’m actually doing okay.
I’m sitting alone in my room at nearly midnight with a cup of tea that’s getting cold because I just needed to write. I needed to spill my guts out on a page and be heard. I haven’t felt like this in a long time and it feels good. So that’s where I’m at right now. The old me is is coming back but with some massive improvements. I’m not the person I was when I started this blog. So much has changed. I feel like the parts of me that are coming back are parts of me from my pre uni days, maybe even pre college. Parts of me that still had wonder, hope and excitement. I know all of that kinda sound contradicting but to me it makes sense. I’m some sort of a new amalgamation of my past but with a new skip in my step.
And on that note- you can call me Em now.