I'm tired, y'all.
Exhausted.
Worn out and worn thin.
And I owe all of you an apology.
When I started writing this blog, my only intention was to share my knitting.
Over the years, though, it became not only that, but an extension of my soul. Of all my thoughts and feelings, as well as my crafting accomplishments. A way for me to connect and share with all of you.
But these last 6 months or so (maybe longer) I haven't been honest with you. I've just been plastering on a smile and repeating the mantra that I've forced myself into for so long.
"It's fine... everything is fine."
It was easier.
It was so much easier to just listen to that little voice in the back of my head...
"Just share the good things here! No one actually cares about how bad things have deteriorated inside your head. They're only here to see your ridiculous projects and if you don't have anything good to share, what use are you?"
My goal became to just shove everything down in and survive. I didn't have the energy to focus on myself because I was also trying to help my spouse through their own deteriorating mental health.
Yeah, that's been great, let me tell you, having to somehow learn how to help each other get through the times that our bad days overlap.
We're probably both better off dealing with this than some other people might be because we've been navigating my mental illnesses for 14 years together, but it hasn't been easy. My instinct is to only focus on them, damn everything else.
I almost lost other relationships because of this. I missed the signs of someone close's depression worsening. And while I am already working on fixing these problems, I'm still angry with myself for letting it happen in the first place.
And with me shoving everything down as far as I could and focusing on anything but myself, I ended up having two very bad (for me) suicidal episodes at different points this year. Not to mention a return of the days of all day anxiety. Being terrified to go to bed. Depression days so bad I could hardly breathe.
I thought I'd finally improved enough to not have to deal with these anymore. Or at least not as much as I have in the past. Finding out that's not the case has been soul-crushing.
I just feel so utterly lost right now. I've barely been knitting. Everything I've cast on has been thrown to the side soon after with disgust because NOTHING feels good in my hands. Or I would make a mistake that previously probably wouldn't have bothered me, but now I just can't live with it.
I even tried crocheting again, hoping to bring back the spark of passion with wool. I couldn't even get past the first 4 rows without frogging it.
I had planned on having some new craft goal for 2020, but I don't think I can. I don't even know what my creative abilities are going to look like at the end of the next 12 months.
At this point, I'm just taking things day to day to see what I feel like doing. A lot of that time has been drowning myself in books. I'm on my 14th book since January 1st already. I can lose myself in my stories and try to live through another day.
And while it's been nice to do so, I miss *making*. I miss the feelings of accomplishing things. I need a goal again. Something to work towards. But I don't know what. I hope Henry comes back to me soon and grants me his favor again.
Until then, I guess I just keep cautiously moving forward in the fog.
As for the blog, I still have a few things in reserve to talk about, including the shawl I finished at the end of last year. So I'll do my best to get those out soon.
But after? I only ask for your patience as I try to find myself again. But this time, I promise I'll be honest about how I'm feeling. I owe it to you.. and to myself.
So, onwards we go, friends.
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