I haven't been able to find the passion to write.
I tell myself it's the lack of time, the fact that there simply isn't enough hours in the day to do everything but it's not the case.
I simply lack the energy and the inspiration to sit down and write something new.
I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing. I understand that it's simply a slow-point, one of those filler scenes in the movie of my life that is there to create substance between action scenes.
But I still feel hollow. When I don't write I find myself thinking about another day passing with nothing new to post. Then the thoughts cascade into wondering if I should just delete my entire blog and give up. Then I pick myself up and say 'no, this week I'm writing something new'.
Then sometimes it hits Friday and I realise a whole new week has slipped by and I didn't notice that I barely picked up a pen or tapped a sentence onto my computer.
It can be hard, convincing yourself to do something, but then when you do it can feel incredible. Liberating even that you managed to argue with yourself enough to get something done.
Every week can't be a 'self-care' week. Sometimes, you actually have to work. You have to make the time to start something new or edit something old. You have to commit to the idea that you're going to do it. Not think about it.
So, this is my attempt at doing something.
It serves no purpose, it has no real meaning. But it's something. I put aside time and I wrote this and for today that's something I'm willing to be proud of.