Don’t call it a comeback

I’m still here.

Yes, I know, last fall I threw in the towel and proclaimed that I was SO DONE. DONE with blogging. But like all drugs, writing is a drug. It is addictive. It’s my heroin and whether I’m telling my own story or someone else’s, I live, feed off it, and breathe it. And when the hard work pays off, I profit from it.

The problem I had with writing at Chaos in the Country was its life expectancy had ended when we moved to AK. Chaos was built on living our life in rural NE Ohio, surrounded by cows, hogs, Amish, and sloppy ODOT drivers. In ways that I still can’t put into words, I felt like life was just beginning when we moved to the country and in so many ways I thought I’d never adjust to it. Peepers at night, the sounds of horses and buggies up and down the road, the warm summer breeze coming through the front windows, making the curtains fly like Superman’s cape.

It was quiet and peace and serenity. Things I didn’t know I needed to feel.

Ohio was… all my kids under one roof, an amazing job, family just a stone’s throw away, and mornings on my deck reading. It was blaring the radio in the summer, watching storm clouds come over the highway and cross the field, rocking out the house when I occasionally cleaned and party bussing to Walmart, the mall, or Chipotle. It was Thanksgiving on Friday, and venison in the freezer.

I built a life and a story there. It was a good one. It was the kind of story that you laugh and cry through and then throw the book when it’s over.

When we left Ohio, it felt like the story had just gotten to the good parts.

I miss it. I will never, ever stop missing it. That story will forever live on my shelf, a book to be dusted off and reread when life hands me more lemons that I have pitchers to fill with lemonade.

So here I am.

Ready to write a new story

This time though, the story won’t revolve around cows, kids, or any of the familiars. It will have to rely on new experiences; learning what it’s like to watch that empty nest get closer and closer, what my 40s feel like (spoiler: I kind of love them), understanding what it’s like to be an introvert (yeah now THAT’S a spoiler), and how I cope with my own personal anxiety and depression (more spoilers! Don’t you love me?!) and lastly, what a faker like me knows about keeping it all together in the midst of chaos. (That last part made me smile, how about you?).

One thing you should know though, this is not a comeback because I never quit. I never gave up. I just had to find a new story to tell.

Instead of fighting against my drug and resisting the need to put words to paper (or screen), I’m embracing it. I’m here to win. For you see, this drug? It’s not a bad one – it’s my anti-anxiety medicine. It’s the cheapest fix for what makes me feel like I want to crawl out of my own skin or hide in the safety and darkness of my closet.

It’s like getting in the ring with my blood pumping. I’m ready to kick ass and make the pen and paper my bitch. Even when the words come out shitty and they make no sense, I’m victorious because I wrote SOMETHING. The paper is bloody with my feelings, my thoughts, my anxiety, and sadness out of my body and onto the page. I can throw it away or turn it into something useful.

And yes, I wrote this with LL Cool J on repeat (as one does when they’re feeling froggy).

One more thing, amazing things are on the way this year. I’m taking the old and making it new again and I’m ready to chase down some serious dreams.

Who’s with me?