I expect I was being overdramatic

I expect I was being overdramatic in my last post. I certainly hope so. I have a tendency to be dramatic, and I was . . . rather upset just then. I hate it when my friends have been unhappy, and I hate it even more when they still are. I hate that I can never protect anyone. So I probably overreacted when it was hammered home yet again that no, I can’t protect anyone and all I can do when they suffer is stand there and watch and ‘be there for them’, which I know is very useful and all but which is not as useful as I want it to be.

When I started this blog I thought “I should post here often – but not once a day. If I give myself a schedule like that I’ll never get anything done.” (I do not do well with deadlines.) But I thought I’d be posting here with reasonable frequency, and for a time I did.

But then I started to get rather depressed. The best expression I’ve found for it is to say that my head exploded. Twice, actually. And when I realized that all of my posts were essentially about how I felt and were, basically, diary entries with no action, summarily uninteresting to anyone but myself, I simply stopped writing. My head has calmed down now, but I still don’t know what to write. On the other hand, it is my blog. Meaning no disrespect to anyone who actually reads it, I’m doing this mostly for my own sake. So I’ll start writing again about something as soon as I know what to write about, I guess. Or as soon as I have something to say.

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