I woke up this morning feeling less than stellar, but not for the usual reasons. Someone had sent me a personal message on Instagram simply saying they missed reading my blog posts. That’s the first thing I read, at 6:30am this morning. I must have drafted ten replies, but each felt less sincere than the previous. I was trying to make excuses for what I wasn’t doing. In the end, I just had to write what was the boring, mundane truth. “I haven’t felt like I’ve had anything to say.”

Each and every day, I’ve put a picture up on Instagram. Usually, after doing so, I spend a lot of time on the app, seeing what everyone else is up to. I spill onto stories and inevitably end up reading blog posts a plenty from the links shared on the platform. Basically, I go down a happy rabbit hole and end up staying there for ages. I haven’t been able to, as of late. I’ve interacted with readers on the platform, but haven’t done much in the way of interacting with much else. Mainly because I find myself stuck in an epic comparison trap.

It feels like everyone around me is using this time to be creative, to do amazing and wonderful things with their homes, their blogs, their dreams of becoming authors or painters. And what am I doing? Well, nothing that’s worth noting, clearly, or I’d be noting it on here, for all to read.

I’ve spent time feeling sorry for myself. That, I’ve absolutely mastered. I see a video of home and I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. I read that travel might not be back to normal until 2023, and that international travel might not be a safe option for another year, and I actually am physically sick to my stomach. Don’t worry, though. I’m not shrinking away to nothing as a result. Quite the opposite. Steve says we are living like teenagers whose parents have gone away for the weekend. Our cupboards are full of chocolate, our trash bins overflowing with pizza boxes. The only thing we really haven’t done is turn to the booze. I surprise even myself with that. I think margarita night is long overdue, don’t you?

It’s a weird old time and every single moment I start to feel sad, I berate myself even further. People are dying. Other people are risking their lives to save those who are sick. I’m sitting at home crying over an old Hershey’s bar and feeling sorry for myself. Get a grip, woman!

It’s a cycle that isn’t a good one and it has 100% zapped my creativity. Any and all creative moments I have go into my one picture a day on ‘the gram’, and that’s as far reaching as I can muster at the moment. This isn’t to say my life is all doom and gloom. I find happiness in the daily walks. I find happiness in the crappy food I’m eating  (and for the first time am not beating myself up about). I find happiness in the phone calls, the zoom calls, the Facetime calls and the occasion hellos swapped with strangers. I truly find reasons to be thankful and joyous in the littlest of things these days. But, for the past couple of weeks, that’s where it’s existed. It hasn’t been found in writing, I’m sorry to say.

Blogging hasn’t felt important to me. In fact, if I’m being totally honest, I’ve had a complete crisis about what it is I do for a living. Each and every day I’ve had a constant thought, “is it enough?” I’m not sure what I’m going to do with that for now. I think such a big thought is worthy of some true exploration. Who knows where it will lead?

There’s a good chance that right now, in this moment, I am writing this more for myself than for you. I know I need a good kick up the arse and I’m aware that could bring with it a massive change. But for now, as it has been for the past decade, I do feel an obligation to communicate, to tell you that I’m still here. I’m still breathing. I’m still fighting the fight to discover whatever creativity I can find and I’ll come back. But, I wanted to offer a humble apology. I have never wanted to just write for the sake of writing. I want to write when I have something of value to communicate. Some may wonder if this post qualifies. I’m not sure if I know or not. Like I said, I could just be writing this for myself. I know there are plenty of other people to follow and read right now, and I thank you, as ever, for continuing to come back and read what I have to say. It won’t be like this forever. However, you are absolutely due an explanation for where I’ve been.

Let’s hope that this brief period of creativity slumping will lead to future creative genius. Who knows what lies around the corner?

I do hope you’re all hanging in there ok. Make no mistake about it, we are all grieving something. This isn’t easy, what the world is going through. I can’t even end this positively and give you hope for what’s to come. Instead, I’ll just say this. The one thing that’s kept me going is so very simple. I keep thinking about hugging my mom and dad. How good that’s gonna feel. I know it’s a ways away before that happens, but I’m keeping it as my happy place moment. I think we all need something like that, some sort of light at the end of the tunnel. I keep picturing us sitting on the end of the dock at home, dogs at our feet, smiling and laughing, and I swear that rescues my soul from the deepest pit of despair.

Watch this space. I might be back as soon as tomorrow. But for today, this is what I had to say….


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