Forgotten

I've been very terrible at keeping up with The Songs of Spring. There are a myriad of excuses I could use. I've been busy, I've been enjoying my time off, I've been depressed, I've been so boring that there's nothing to write about. At one time or another in the past few weeks, I've been each of or more than one of these things.

The relationship I've had with this blog for the last several months has been indicative of my state of mind. I've forgotten, essentially, to focus inwardly and improve upon myself. Early on that was because I was finding myself through other means - I started going to therapy, and that was a way to get my feelings out that didn't solely involve speaking into the void in the form of a blog. I was also absorbed in other activities. I finished off college, I interned full time, I got caught up in relationships (none of which were fruitful in the end, but all of which were time-consuming).

At the end of the day, what got lost in the shuffle - especially lately - was me.

I've tried to be happy in other ways, tried to forget who I am - which is, despite my attempts to avoid it, a person who struggles with depression.

It feels kind of scary admitting that outright. I'm sure I've mentioned it in past blogs, but right now - in the throes of a day of wallowing - I kind of feel ridiculous pointing it out. Like somehow it should be obvious, yet it is entirely embarrassing to admit at the same time.

Lately my depression has felt like an unwanted appendage. Like a third arm, it comes shooting out of my heart and doesn't bear any subtlety. If you're around me, you're forced to see it. Even if I'm hiding it well, it's still there.

I don't really know what to do with it anymore, in fact. I've decided my first order of attack is that I should go back into therapy soon. And that's only the beginning, really, of returning to the status quo of "Me"-dom.

I've been afraid of changing because I feel so stuck in the person I am right now (as self-loathing as she is), but I know that part of getting out of this slump of life is moving forward and not dwelling on the past so much. The people, things, experiences that are gone are just that: gone. And the only things that matter are the things that will inhabit my life from here forward.

As a writer, and the type of person who likes to live in fantasy worlds most of the time - I'm always stuck in the past. Nostalgia personified is my truest description.

Nostalgia is great, but not forgetting to make new things to be nostalgic about.

When I am older, I don't think I'll ever look back on my very early twenties as the best time in my life. If anything, this has been the most trying period in my short time on this Earth. But I want my later early twenties to be something to behold.

Right now they're not quite there, but I'm making plans. And I'm not forgetting to fulfill them.

So there. And here's a big F-you to the past. As in, "forget" you. Or, you know, the other thing.