I’ve been writing on this here blog since 12 December 2005.
That’s a bloody long time.
Between 2005 and, say, 2009, I wrote almost every day. Initially it came from a need to talk about the stuff I cared about. There’s only so many times you can talk out loud to the people in your life about the pre-4AD Mountain Goats albums and whether they lost something when they stopped recording into four-track.
The internet will always listen to you gush about the Mountain Goats.
It turned pretty quickly, though, from somewhere to channel my fan-girling, into a daily cathartic dump of everything that had happened to me during the day. Tricky job situations, my parent’s marriage breakdown, my Nan passing.
From 2005 to 2008 I was a Very Lonely Girl. This blog was, in a way, me shouting into the virtual darkness what it felt like to be me.
Then, in 2009, I moved in with the boy. I had someone to talk to. I didn’t really need the outlet anymore.
The posts went from daily, to weekly, to monthly, and then… to nothing at all. As is the Way Of Things.
I’ve kept all those posts, even though some of them from when I was in my late 20s are excruciating to read. I’ve gone back and made every one of them private though. This is partly because I feel like there’s merit to starting from scratch at this particular point in my life, and partly because no one really needs to read about my neighbour in South Windsor at the time who liked to water his lawn wearing nothing but his open dressing gown.
So here I am starting, in a way, from a beginning. Part of a 30 day accountability challenge. I have a lot of guilt spirals in my head at any given time, but the one telling me I should write more for myself is pretty loud. It has been there for a while, too.
It’ll likely just be a lot of stuff about my dogs and how tired I am haha. Really though, I have some mental shit to work through, and a commitment to write for at least 30 days running is only going to help.
Part of the commitment is putting down one thing I like about myself, and one thing I’m grateful for.
Tonight I’m grateful for rest. I saw something on Instagram this week that said a variation of rest is revolutionary. It resonated hard with me – I am perpetually berating myself for not going hard enough, trying hard enough, working hard enough. The idea of prioritising rest is foreign and only something I’ve recently (read: since the nervous breakdown) got my head around. I know a lot of people feel like that.
I’ll be in bed by 9:30 tonight, and I’ll get a solid 8 hours. I really love my bed.
Viva la revolucion.
One thing I like about myself: I actually got off my ass today, even though I was feeling bloody exhausted, and did a program workout. And I got through it, including warm-up, in under an hour. I felt really proud of myself afterwards.
Day 1 of 30. Let’s do this.
My insides are pink and raw
And it hurts me when I move my jaw
But I am taking tiny steps forward
And I feel sure that my wounds will heal
And I will bloom here in my room
With a little water
And a little sunlight
And a little bit of tender mercy
The Mountain Goats – Absolute Lithops Effect