I was just reminded that I have had this blog for seven years. Seven years of rants. Seven years of poetry. Seven years of channeling my depression online. And I used to be good at it. I remember when I was in college, sometimes I would get so creative I would post twice a week. There were times when I’d try not to post every day. Now I can barely post once a month.
And I’ve been thinking. On and off for a while, I’ve been thinking. What if I just closed it down? Is seven years long enough? For a long time this blog was my identity. I put my heart and soul into. Which is why my lack of creativity depresses me so much, I think. But maybe it’s time to rip the bandaid off? Is anyone even paying attention anymore? Because I for sure have nothing to say anymore.
Last April I moved into a townhouse. I thought moving here might give me the creative head space I need, but instead I feel like I might have even less creative space. I’ve forgotten how to act on my ideas, because I still have those. I have hundreds of photos on a memory card in a camera that I bought because I thought I was going to get back into photography. Instead, they sit there unedited, when I used to love editing and sharing photos.
I spend a lot of time wondering who I even am anymore. I start school next month, and I’m excited for it, but what happened to being a writer? What happened to being a poet? What happened to having big dreams? Did I get lost somewhere along the way? I want to try. So badly, I want to try. But giving it all up seems to much easier.
My decisions are pending. But this could be coming close to a goodbye.