What a difference a year makes

I'm dashing this off before running to meet a friend to see Mortified, a hilarious-sounding piece of performance art where people read from their teenage diaries. I'm feeling a little anxious about going--this is a new friend and I'm realizing more and more what an introvert I'm becoming and how these acts of reaching out unnerve me. That's the reason I'm taking the time to write this now, since writing is one of the things that reliably centers me (walking is the other).

Last year this time was the hardest time of my life. For reasons too personal to share here, last fall was a time filled with darkness and depression for me. I'm reminded so heavily of that time now, as the anniversary of this dismal period is upon me. For example, last year this time, I could not get up the energy or initiative to start up a NaNoWriMo group in Easton, even though I wanted so badly to learn more about the writing and arts scene in our new town. I remember hating myself for not having the focus to do that. (Luckily, Brian stepped up and did this without my help.) This year, on the other hand, I am so excited to welcome NaNo into my life, and I will be contacting our library soon to see about hosting some write ins.

There are other "fun" things, like hosting a French cooking class at my house and having my family over for Thanksgiving, that I look back on and realize how much energy they took up--so much more so than usual because pretending to be OK and happy sucks out whatever little life there is in you when you're depressed.

I know a few friends who are going through some tough times right now. Divorces. Difficult pregnancies. Stresses of kids and working. So I'm posting this now to say, Hang in there. This fall might be truly awful. But in a year, you might look back on this and say, "Phew. So glad that's over and I'm happy again." I hope you can.