I’ve spent most of the last year in a shell, keeping my problems to myself. I like it better that way. At least that’s what I tell myself. But once I escape my shell, even for a short while, it becomes apparent that my shell has become diseased. Fostering a desolate environment where life slowly loses its value. I don’t care a whole lot about myself, or others even. The world doesn’t matter all that much inside my shell with its rotting ecosystem. I stop reading, talking, writing, and caring.

It’s been a long time coming, but I think my head has been popping out into the open air a little more often. I’m thinking more of the world around me. Chunks of my calloused heart and mind crumble, washing away with the waves of life that lap at my feet.

I have had a had a very hard time keeping up this blog. Sometimes I don’t know what to write. Sometimes I don’t think about the readers. But mostly I feel like a fraud trying to give any advice or spread any hope when I don’t feel any myself. It’s hard to care about the outside world when I am slowly rotting away inside that closed box of illness that I built myself. Recently I have been able to publish a some writings. It feels good to write. It feels even better to hear from you who read my work. Thank you especially to the Aunt who recently encouraged me to keep writing. This one is for you.

As I make an effort to turn this into a fresh start, I will try to write more for all of you, and for me.

I am truly blessed to have people who care about these words that I write.

Thank you.