Almost five and a half months. Still the blogging screen is blank.
Retreats. Books. Life events. All the usual, reliable prompts. But nothing.
It isn’t really a writer’s block. That’s for people who write for income, or entertainment, or pleasure.
I write for therapy. For reflection. For healing.
So it isn’t really a traditional writer’s block lacking inspiration and creativity. It is a lack of medicine. A lack of progress. A lack of health.
And it is one of many signs to be mindful of. There are others.
I have no desire to do…well…just about anything.
A weight loss plan that was highly successful through the first four months of the year has stalled out. Even begun heading the other direction. The self-discipline…self-motivation is gone. Again.
Ironic, because I’m not truly hungry for anything. Restaurants disappoint. Grocery shopping is merely requisite. I can eat the same food night after night after night after…well, you get the idea.
Stamp collecting. Sports watching. Camping. Hiking. All of it. Just motions.
Truth be told these are the spells that grip those of us who suffer from clinical depression. Sure, everybody to some extent, but these are not just periods of feeling down. They are extensive valleys. Valleys that can turn from days to weeks to months. Valleys that can rob us of energy, enthusiasm, enjoyment. Valleys that can black out a computer screen for five and a half months.
Which brings me to this moment. This moment that is called forced blogging. Push the keys one at a time. Put words on the screen. Run sentences together until a paragraph is formed. Then another. And another. Paragraphs that may serve as stepping stones for climbing out of the valley.
Not for income, entertainment or pleasure.
For therapy. For reflection. For healing.