Musings of a Joyologist.

LMH

I thought I was just tired. Or, that I had taken on too much again, allowed the hurtful people around me to affect me, and that I had done what I always do...given up on myself. No. I’m tired because my depression has kicked in again with full force. The hurtful things probably triggered it and losing my defenses contributed too but the reality is that my hormones stopped doing what they are supposed to which led to me feeling like I do right now. I hate this feeling and what I hate most is that it takes away from my normal joy and ambitious nature. I hate that it is genetic and that I have no control over when or why this depression hits me. I hate that I have to take medication to feel “normal.” I would like to put a positive spin on this but at this point, I can’t. I’m in too much pain and I am too tired to try to make this depression okay for everyone else. I have my meds. I’ll take them and hope that I get back centered sooner than later. 

I have been in hiding for awhile as I have dealt with some hurtful truths that I knew were lurking under the surface, I just didn’t know what to call them. Over the past ten years, maybe even longer, my life has been in turmoil. I have lost family members in tragic and unexpected ways, lost my faith in a church that has always felt foreign to me, and learned that the childhood that I experienced and thought was "normal" was far from it. I'm going to explore these truths in the coming posts, but I wanted to check in and put myself out there because I feel like my journey can be of benefit to you out there in this weird tech universe. I hope my story finds you if you need it and I promise going forward to not cling to a facade that has broken my heart more times than I can admit. I want to be vulnerable and be real with you. And, I will be. 

Race to Erase by Son Lux ethereal

Nora Ephron

He was my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest, My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song; I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong. The stars are not wanted now; put out every one, Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun, Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood; For nothing now can ever come to any good.

sexy.