Not a day goes by when I don’t think that I must write. This blog is lurking at the back of my mind and I know I really should get back to it. I’ve let this happen in the past. I start something and then I let it slide until it seems no longer relevant. Or too late. It’s been so long now, I might as well give up. Right?

I have had a busy two months with job changes, more responsibility, less time, and waiting for things to settle into a new rhythm. I’m getting there.

So, what brought me here today of all days?

Hurt.

And writing is the only thing that helps. It always has been.

Sometimes it seems people can only be relied upon to hurt you. Cheerful thought, huh? I’d like to say it’s not all that bad, but lately, it seems I am more vulnerable. I get hurt more easily. By friends, by circumstances. Whatever.

Why is that? Is my skin getting thinner? I’m a spread more thinly? Spread out too much and less resilient than I usually am? Too tired? Not enough time to recover?

Let’s just think about this year, how very long it has been. The first half of it spent in lockdown, hardly seeing anyone, mostly at home, stressed about money, lonely.

And then life kicks back into gear, the job picks up, overtime comes back, no real summer, no real holiday, everybody busy, a promotion, still not out of the woods where money is concerned, friends who make themselves scarce, too many people too soon, and still remaining lonely.

All in all, I’d say I’m coping remarkably well. But coping isn’t exactly healing and I feel lost some days. Unless I’m busy, which is just another coping mechanism.

Today I decided to go for more mindfulness. Not watching something mindless and distracting, but finishing a book I started a while back. Not scrolling through social media so much. What am I even looking for? Just something lighthearted, I suppose. Something to make me smile, take the edge away.

But I keep scrolling and eventually, it just doesn’t do it anymore. I put the phone away, not knowing what to do with myself. I even thought I should get a hobby that doesn’t involve screens or anything electronic. I think that’s actually a good idea.

The hurt has dissipated somewhat. I think others are just as thin-skinned as I am. I triggered someone and she lashed out at me. I don’t exactly know what I triggered, but her response hurt. I had no ill-intention. Not that that helps. It’s not a particularly good excuse, is it?

When you feel lost, you just want someone to find you, I suppose. It makes us feel less alone. But I guess it’s up to me to find myself.

Writing helps because it allows me to simply ramble and sort through my thoughts. It is probably not even worth publishing but getting this out is better than keeping it inside.