So This Is How It ends…For Now

I don’t know how to start this post. I’ve written and rewritten the first sentence a dozen times. Every time I sit down to write this, I hesitate. Is it a rash decision? Am I making a mistake? No, I know this is what I need to do, and this decision is the right one.

Since I made it, I’m sleeping better. I’m not waking up with dread. There’s a lightness in my chest. I exhale slowly, close my eyes, and yes, it’s time. I’m ready to make this move.

That being said, I never thought I’d be writing these words. It’s been a long time coming, but I didn’t think it would ever arrive. Surely with grit and determination, I can forge ahead undeterred yet slightly waylaid.

When I started writing these posts a few years ago, I thought I could keep going forever. It was exciting and fun. Terrifying, for sure, but it was also exhilarating. I had a safe space to share my thoughts and feelings. I finally had a voice! This was the one place I could actually say what I was thinking since my real world voice is quiet and shy.

I played with that voice and struggled to find one that felt authentic. At first, I was torn between the rules of writing and creative expression. I started out trying to be technically perfect, then discovered that it was more enjoyable to break the grammatical barriers. Let loose. Let go. Let myself be authentically me, and see where it took me.

Over the last few years, it’s brought some new friends that I wouldn’t have met without this platform. A lot of people— more than I ever dreamed— decided to stick around and follow my musings week after week. It’s been more than I could’ve hoped and a lot more than I excepted.

That voice in my head that said no one would care what I had to say, was proven wrong. You came, you cared and that means more than I can say. I mean that was all the sincerity I can muster. I’m not blowing smoke up an unfortunate orifice. 

From to tips of my toes to the top of my head, I’m so incredibly grateful for everyone who has taken the time to read the words I write. Those of you who went beyond that? Subscribing, liking, and leaving me your thoughts and encouragement? It made me smile every time.

When I say I didn’t think anyone would care? I’m not being self-deprecating. Genuinely, I thought my words would get lost in the noise of the world wide web. One more person in an ocean of humanity screaming into the void. Yet, here you are, reading these words, and I’m speechless.

Which is not a good thing for a writer to be, is it?

I’m not talking about writers’ block. We all experiences that universal gremlin. At some point, it bites us all in the posterior and refuses to let go. If you create anything then you’ve hit a wall, and you weren’t sure how to scale it.

Somehow we find a way to push through or scale over the top, dig a tunnel underneath, and continue our creative endeavours. The tool that gets us through those periods vary. It could be a break, a good cry, or finding inspiration in strange places. We dig deep, grit our teeth, and keep going because quitting is not an option.

Or is it? Oh, there it is.

Over the last six months, writing has steadily become a lot harder. Finding the words to say— finding anything to write about— has become a battle. The joy I felt when I first started has slowly diminished. The fun I was having playing around with words, topics, & streams of consciousness has become a chore. I sit in front of my rundown computer, and the first thought that comes to mind is, “I don’t want to do this.”

I’ve mentioned this a few times in recent posts. I’ve felt this almost desperate need for a change. It started as a whispered desire that, I’m sure, was triggered by the pandoodle. Two years of being isolated from the world because my immune system is a weak, useless piece of… Sigh. It does its best, but it’s not up for the challenge.

Two years is a long time to watch life carry on without you. It’s been a long slog for all of us, hasn’t it? It’s hit us all in different ways, but none of it has been easy. We’ve all sacrificed so much, lost too much, and now? Is it safe to rejoin society? Can someone like me start living again?

That brings me back to the one word that I don’t like very much. It’s the one thing I try to avoid at all costs. I hate change. If it ain’t broke and of all of that. But something is broken, or it’s reaching its natural conclusion. If something doesn’t change? If I don’t?

I’ve been toying with this idea for a couple of months. I’ve been resisting it for just as long. Why risk it? I don’t know what I’m doing. I know how to walk this path, it’s safer, but the other way? Well, I don’t know where that leads. It’s covered in shadows. It’s hard to see what’s coming, and it’s scary. There could be anything hiding in the darkness.

This path is safer even if it’s not leading me anywhere. It’s taken me as far as it can, and now? I’m standing at a fork in the road. Sure I could push on, but it’s just a circle looping back on itself. I’ve done a few laps, learned quite a bit, and had my fun, but it’s taken me as far as I can go.

The other path? Nothing is lighting the way. It’s completely unknown. What danger lurks in the dark, in the shadows? What treasures might I find? Do I dare take the risk? 

You know the choice I’ve made or, more accurately, I’m in the process of making. I’m humming and hawing. I’m shifting the weight between my feet and chewing on my bottom lip. It has to be done. No, it’s a need at this point. It’s not a chore or a task but a new adventure.

I can do this? That’s a big question mark with neon flashing lights. I’m not sure I can handle what comes next. The new chapter, this crazy idea, is still hazy. Sorry, I’m going to leave you in suspense until I figure it out, but I’m working on it.

I’m taking small steps forward and avoiding the big ones. It feels too overwhelming, and I can’t handle it all at once. There are so many fears and what if’s storming through my brain. I can’t do this. Yes, I can. No, I can’t. Oo, maybe?

Damn it, yes I can. I’ve done it before. I never thought I could write about mental health and chronic illness but here were, years later, and I’ve done it.

But this is different. This is new and strange and…I’m scared.

Perhaps that’s a good thing? Sometimes, being scared and uncomfortable is a sign that we’re making the right choice. I’m pushing myself out of this comfortable box and into the unknown. Yay?

I’ve done it before when I first started this blog. So, that means I can do this too, somehow. I don’t know how. I’m freaking out. But I’m also ready. It’s time. I’ve taken this as far as I can go. It’s time for a change. I need to do this for my happiness if nothing else.

I don’t want to disappoint anyone who’s been following me or subscribed to this content. I’m sorry but I can’t take another loop. It’s time to change directions and try something new. The topics I’ve been talking about are still important to me, and I’m sure they will make an appearance. 

No matter what changes, I’m still me. I’ll always come back to what’s important to me. It might be a passing comment or a dedicated post. I don’t know. As I said, the whole picture is a blur, and I’m tentatively exploring the edge of the shadows.

But this change is important to me, it’s necessary, and I hope you stick around for the next adventure. I’m not sure when it will begin. Soon? Maybe? I’ve taken the first steps, small as they may be, and I’m trying to figure out what comes next. Something will be coming. I can promise you that. 

Though, as I typed those words, I held my breath. Perhaps I shouldn’t make such a bold statement. No, I’ll put words on the page again. I’m making this promise to you and me. I”m a creative person, and that’s not something that can be stifled or subdued for too long.

I’ll be back. 

It will be under a new name (I’ve just secured the new domain), and the website will get a new look. The old content will still be available (or so I’m told), and we’ll begin a new chapter together.

Not to overstate the point, but I need you to know how grateful I am that you’re here reading this. You’ve given me so joy and helped me gain the confidence I needed to move my story forward. You’ve helped me process and heal. You listened to my quiet voice. I can’t express how much I value you and this time we’ve had together.

Before the change goes live, I’ll stop by to give you a heads up. If you’re subscribed? You’ll know the name to look for in your inboxes. There won’t be any big surprises.  

Thank you so much for being here, and I hope we can walk this new path together. Until the adventure begins, take care of yourself. You deserve to find your happy where ever it is.