Despair is a seven-letter word...

...and any word is better than nothing.

The past few years have been hard.

I know, I know, life is always hard.

But the past few years have been exceptionally hard. Hard to the point that I lost my ability to share my words. Writing used to be such an easy thing for me. Much easier than talking. I would often say that "I am better on paper." And it was true too. 

Initially I continued writing in a professional capacity, but at some point, even that became just too much to keep going. The curiosity needed to write with insight and depth, slowly syphoned away, until only dry cliches and empty refrains remained.

As I said: hard.

Hard to the point of despair. And despair, I can tell you, is a lonely place to be.

I have been no stranger to depression. When diagnosed with "high functioning depression and anxiety," now almost 20 years ago, I did what I usually do when a new concept crosses my path. I learnt as much about it as I can. Depression became my obsession. And in time I felt my way around it. It became a familiar place, almost a comfort at times.

But then, more recently, I met despair. And despair is a completely different horse, with a completely different colour.

As often happens (since people know I write), I was told to tell the story. But the more I think about it, it really is more like four or five stories. And I am not quite on the other side just yet.

Perhaps in the process of untangling my past, I will figure out words for the future.

Perhaps I will figure out something else altogether.