I found my voice through treatment. I found my voice because it was solicited and respected and valued and deemed important. Because others thought my voice was important I came to believe it to be so.
I'm told I had a rough time through treatment but with nothing to compare it to what would I know. I am here, I am alive and now having a tougher time surviving. I don't really know why, I did not know what to expect…
Well that was bound to happen! I should have known better really. If anybody got their hands on a diary from my teen years it would have sounded like I was seriously depressed but that is because the diary only got written in when I was down. When I was out and about, having the best kind of fun then there was no time to write a "stupid diary."
So here it is with the blog, when I am busy and battling on there…
I am not quite sure why I started blogging as I am not really sure I "get" the medium. As quite a private person everything in me, well almost everything resists putting anything out there in the public realm and surely a diary would do. I'm told a weblog is a diary too but it cannot be because the very thought of writing something that other people might read changes the way I write, my diaries get written…
I keep being told that I should have reached my "new normal" by now. But here's the thing, no one can tell me what a new normal should look or feel like and if it feels like this then I'm not keeping it! Call me a conspiracy theorist if you want but I am beginning to wonder if this talk of a "new normal" is just something that is said to keep people like me hoping for something better to come round the corner or maybe…
