When speaking to someone earlier, I realized that I miss writing a journal. I fell out of the habit along with lots of other things. I have stopped doing things that I enjoy doing for one reason or another.
I once was a prolific blogger and writer but something inside me changed. I stopped.
A major factor has definitely been my decline in mental health due to certain events over the past year. I didn’t want to write how I was feeling because it made me sad and it wasn’t something that I thought I would want to read years down the road.
The ironic and sad thing about this is that I have been on a soul searching quest and it would have been a fantastic time for me to have been writing. I see the past 9 months as time in the wilderness. It’s time for me to come back.
I used to meditate every day. I still meditate but it’s informal and deep down and I think that it’s just me closing my eyes when I’m on my lunch break.
I was a huge reader but I just stopped.
I have more time on my hands than I’ve ever had before. What am I doing? I need to come home from the wilderness but I don’t. I enjoy it. But the flickers I keep getting from certain past times from times past is making me want to come back in.