So I started writing that book I’ve been planning on for a while. Since coming out of my long admission I have been re-enlightened with my meaning and purpose to write. This means, although I don’t keep this blog up too regularly, that I may likely write less, or perhaps more because I am writing a lot I don’t know.
At the moment I am very depressed. Every waking moment feels like an unecassary torture. I won’t go into details though because my book is about journeying through depression. I have written the poems and for as much as I’d love to share them with you I’m afraid I can’t as I would like this book to be published properly and on the stands in book stores around the country. That is my dream for this book, and right now it is helping me. It is helping me find purpose in a seemingly purposeless life. For now, it is giving me something to do in days and moments when I want nothing more than to die. Breathing is enough, that is all I can ask of myself and I just hope sometime soon my team sort out my medications so I can be well again because boy do I miss being well.
However, this in itself is an idea for a post. The point being that we need meaning and purpose in order to stay alive. We need something to live for. I have written about the small things in life before, and perhaps I should revisit that post myself. Reading, writing, the blue skies on a walk, these are all the small things that right now I’m counting on to keep me going and alive and well- or as well as I can be.