On my absence from the blog

So, for some of you, it’ll be clear I haven’t been on this blog for quite some time. Updates have been sparse at best. And for me, it’s been a matter of self preservation. 

Many of you know of my past. It laces throughout this blog, and spills over in my more rage fuelled tweets. A lot of you even know of my illnesses, particularly of the PTSD. It’s that which has kept me from the blog since the last update, almost six months ago. 

My health spent quite some time steadily declining, worsened by the comments from my mother in relation to my weight gain. Worsened by the threat of losing my home near Christmas last year. Worsened by hearing that the first of my rapists had become a father. I reached the point that I no longer felt anger or sadness when writing about men’s violence towards women. Frequently, I felt nothing more than numb. And when I feel despondent at best; when I come to expect the horrors I write about, then I find myself losing hope. 

Thankfully, I have developed a few friendships of late; survivors of abuse, women living with PTSD. Or sometimes just people who do what those I came to call family in the previous 25 years of my life are incapable of. Respecting my own needs. I wouldn’t say I’m in recovery yet. But I’m reaching a space which has seemed alien to me for half a year. 

I have never stopped writing, but at long last, I feel ready to begin writing here again. It may take time until the updates are frequent, and the blog posts meaningful. But in short, I intend to return. 

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