Every blog I write starts with a list of words.  My inspiration for writing.  My brainstorm.  My pains.

From that point I start to form sentences, creating threads to weave them together, ready to iron them into sense.

Today I have been starring at the list for hours and instead of ‘weaving threads’, my head is simply spinning.

I haven’t written for 7-months and now it feels like I have picked up the paint brush however spilt the paint before I’ve had the chance to start.  The colours are wrong and I’ve forgotten how to make sense of it all.

I know that the process is how I make sense yet this time I’m nervous in a way I haven’t been for ages.  The whole ‘Yellow is dead’ concept feels miles away.  I don’t feel brave, I don’t feel positive, I don’t trust that it (the process) will work. Shit.

The loneliness is different too.  My comforts have deserted me.  Left me cold.

I know that I haven’t been 100% happy recently and I’m aware of why.  I guess I thought that I was on top of it all and because I was aware of the causes and therefore I would be able to cope… I thought that it was ok that I’m not ok, because I knew it wouldn’t last.

Ever since I started this blog I have described the elation I feel in Autumn and this one was no exception.  The calm flowed through my veins, giving me relief and a release of energy.

Yet it didn’t last.

I wonder if because I felt so elated that’s why I thought I was ok, the change of mood was helping me get through but perhaps all it did was delay the sadness.

I realise that I haven’t been paying enough attention to my behaviour…wanting to hibernate and sleep, to hide and not leave my house. I KNOW that it’s a sign & that it’s even more unusual at this time of year.  I know that it should make me stop & think…but I just ignored it.

I wonder if my strength through the all the homesickness and ‘lack of purpose’ at the beginning of the year hinged so much on the future being ok that when it hasn’t been straight away, it’s knocked me.

New job, moving back into my home, travelling to Dorset.

I have written before about whether I need on-going support much like recovering alcoholics and I guess having hit this point 8 months after I wrote about it shows that I probably do.

I need to re-connect, I need to step back & take a deep breath.

I have to trust the process…

“…and if you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends…”

**Switches on my music**


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