An Ungraspable Phantom

 Well well well... Here we are. ~?~ I suppose it's welcome back to me ? Gosh, I haven't written a blog for almost three years. Given that I've done more actual professional writing than ever this past year, why haven't I written more? For myself? For me? Of course, the number one reason is just depression. Personal, geographical, financial, professional... It's all been a hell of a time. And of course, it's Christmas. Gosh, how I hate this. The thing is though... I want to write. I want to do something . In a way, writing online has always been part of my battle with depression. For years I wrote to stay alive, really, to turn away from the very worst of self-destruction and... It worked! But things change. Life changes, as all things must, and the ground shifts and then the familiar coping strategies no longer work and new ones must come in their place, but what happens when you can't come up with management quickly enough? And that's why I'm coming...

My name's Paul-Ethan Bright and I'm...  ~*~ Okay, this might take a little explaining. I gave up writing regularly and self-advertising because I felt like I was losing my grip and just getting more and more depressed. I tried to kick-start things with a routine, I suppose the common parlance these days would be to reboot, but let's not digress... For whatever reason, I wasn't able to sustain that, I mean, looking back it wasn't possible to write a recipe, review a new book  and  album every week so things fell apart. I have found that writing often helps me get through trauma, but on the other hand, it is easy to go a little too far the other way and just... Succumb to the void. I started this particular venture three years ago, and while there have been some significant gaps, I haven't given up entirely. I mean, we're here, aren't we? "It's true." Now, I left us all on a brave and unexpected narrative device from the bott...

New year, new me. Did you know, it's actually an anagram of " Y we renew men "?  Amazing.  The more you know. What the hell am I doing, kicking this hornets' nest again?  Well, you know... I need to do something .  Not long before all this new year fervour returns to the usual omni-seasonal depression, where drinking replaces progress because drinking pints isn't frightening but growth is.  Because failure terrifies me.  Because saying what's going on isn't worth the effort; not only is explanation necessary , but also laughed off as I "must only be joking" and it's not worth taking seriously.  (Perhaps my mistake on that one, how foolish of me to consider that I matter.). "I know.  Same as it ever was." So what are we to do?  Oh, I don't know.  Funnily enough I saw something on Twitter that spoke to me with an enormous volume, that making your goals public means you are far less likely to complete them.  I get that.  ...

Long time no see, eh?  Let's recap. It has been seven months and fifteen days since my last post.  Forgive me, for I have lapsed.  In the intervening age, both much and nothing has happened.  Nothing, inasmuch as I am still here, still working a desk job, still singing in choir... Although I broke up with my girlfriend for a bit!  That was something. Last time I spoke about my depression towards my career.  If anything, with the roll round of the new year and the realisation that unless I can care about myself then nobody else will, I am probably in the worst position ever regarding myself and my abilities, confidence and prospects.  I I don't feel like I can rely on anyone above me to support me or provide opportunities (or even point me in a direction), let alone on myself, having spent the last two decades basically telling myself how bad I am only to have that message amplified throughout my years at University and even here, now, in my current...

A whisper begins; Speech, incomprehensible Echoes in the wind. Scattered like blossom, Many voices clamour out To hold court, at last. Suddenly, it turns Quiet; All that remain are Trees, bending in the breeze.

"I only know one truth; it's time for the singing to end" - Luke Skywalker, The Last Jedi Teaser Trailer, 2017 I mean, I'm pretty sure that's what he said.  I might have paraphrased him, I'm not entirely sure. ~ Another week, another draft of the resignation letter.  I often joke that if I ever wrote a suicide note, it would take so long to detail all the crimes I feel have been perpetrated against me that I would eventually become so engrossed in writing it that I would lose interest in killing myself!  VERY FUNNY EH?!  Yes, potentially very triggering as well, I know, my history of suicidal depression notwithstanding.   But this is an idea I keep toying with, something that keeps coming back (y'know, it's like poetry; it rhymes) time and again.  Do I actually want to stop singing?  Is it really time for the nuclear option?  I've felt bad about singing for years and to be honest, not much has gotten better.  I work a desk...

So here we are, all over again.  I get the feeling I keep saying the same things on an endless repeat. Actually, it feels worse this time.  Yeah,  I think it's worse than before.  Definitely.  But then again, I'm being more open about things, so...?  Huh.  Perhaps not.  Maybe I feel like I'm using communication about my mental state as a sort of emotional battering ram (or is that just my own sense of guilt that I should ultimately jettison before someone other than me uses it against me?), but the gain in momentum of the extremity of such statements is worrying, I suppose. As previously discussed in all shapes and forms of my writing at almost all times, I am struggling.  I mean, I am constantly struggling!  Just sometimes I'm more aware of it than not, and this is one of those times.  I don't think I've hit rock bottom entirely, but I there's a gathering sense of density, almost, as if I'm about to collide with something very ...