Still Not Blogging After All These Years

 I wonder if this will be my only post on here this year. It's possible. Things have changed so much since I started this thing back in… I don't know, some year that was before 2005, I'm pretty sure.

I love to write, despite the attempts to metaphorically beat it out of me by various people who have used my work without paying me, or just generally used me in an effort to get me to write something for them. However, those attempts have made me more welcoming than I should be to the idea that writing a few paragraphs as a comment or a status update on Facebook on occasion is enough.

So I haven't been here for a while. I still have lots of meandering musings. I just don't share them here so much.

But I lost a toe the other day.

Well, I didn't lose it. It was taken from me.

Not in a "Stop! Thief! That's my digit!" sort of way. There was surgery involved.

Anyway, when they told me they had to take the toe, I had some difficulty coping. I wish I was still the sort of person that could unabashedly share with you the whole thought process I went through, but I'm older and way more tired now, and knowing about my depression and anxiety doesn't always necessarily help me navigate the funhouse of horrors that is my brain at times. I really feel it should.

Whatever. Life's unfair. This is not news.

So the initial difficulty was a bit short-lived, because—surprise!—I went from being upset (and a bit miffed at myself for being upset, because, dude—it's a toe, and not even one that you need for balance and whatnot) to being some other emotion about bigger issues not directly related but somewhat connected because anxiety is a magical beast that can take any molehill and make an entire mountain range.

And imagine what life was like before I realized this sort of thing was going on…

Anyway, sometimes the mountains really are mountains that you mistook for molehills (or perhaps more importantly they are mountains you have the power to make into molehills with only the power of your way of thinking).

A college friend once said something along the lines of, "Do you ever look at your life and think, "I started off at point A, and now I'm at point B, but how the heck did I get here?"

Yeah, all the time. I mean the answer is probably, "Via a lot of terrible decisions and a life lived in fear." But, still…

Anyway, here it is: I have looked up from all the stupid decisions I've been making over the past decade or so, and I'm a bit lost as to how I got where I am… or more importantly, I'm a bit shocked that I'm so far away from where I'd meant to be.

So here I am, half a century of life under my belt, and where the heck am I? In a crisis situation where I'm freaking out about losing a body part, I can't think of a person I'd be comfortable sharing this with. There are very few shoulders I'm willing to cry on, and most of those are shoulders I only cry on when I don't realize I'm about to lose it.