Letters to the World
Nothing I have been writing feels good enough lately. Call it a writer’s block, maybe a quality block, but the truth is, I have not been feeling great. I started to feel sad in the past few weeks. It’s a feeling I don’t usually experience; happiness is my usual state. Yet it came over me like a wave, and I’ve been riding it as such, waiting for it to burn out. I slipped into deeper and deeper isolation. I didn’t want to work on my blog, to type up the interview I conducted with a Mexican-American artisan. Funny, I remember feeling so excited about her interview, inspired by her story, and driven to share it. What happened?
I don’t know what happened.
I do know what happened, but I don’t want to share it. Another odd move, I feel used to sharing myself on this platform. I feel accustomed to stripping myself down to my raw emotions and pushing the publish button with my eyes squinted and heart racing. Yet there are things in life that are not for sharing with the world; they are for me– and at times for those close to me. And while I could take this post a step further, to create a moralizing story or tie in an overarching theme, I will leave it at this. In the spirit of the mental health wave, I’m not okay and that’s okay. I don’t need to know why, and if I do, I am not compelled to share.
I do want to explain why there has been a wind-down in interview postings. I also want to express my love and gratitude for any and everyone that clicks on my blog links at the end of each month. Thank you for the past two years of reading, sharing, and thinking alongside me.
I will be back soon–I promise