I’m going to try to keep this short. I’m not known for being concise, but I will try.
I’ve been suffering from some intense depression this past half year or so. Maybe more — I don’t keep track of these things, honestly. When you live your whole life with depression as a constant presence, the intensity is sometimes just a detail, unworthy of taking note of.
I’m discovering that having an online presence is starting to make my depression worse. I used to think I could write and that it would solve most of my problems, but I’m seeing that it is starting to have the opposite impact on me than intended. Some of it, I’m fairly certain is the public nature of my posting. Each piece is intensely, deeply me — for all of the obfuscations and poetic imagery, much of it is very real. Forget about social media — I often feel suicidal after looking too much at that crap.
Because being online is a factor in feeling worse over time, rather than better — I am currently planning on closing up shop here within the next few days. Domain stuff is up for renewal soon, so it seems like a good time to wrap it up, turn out the lights, and lock the doors.
Maybe I’ll go do something private. Something for me and whatever people out there really give two shits about what I write. Not sure if there are many or any out there who would care to visit if such a place existed, which is fine — I suppose. I’ve always written to write, only rarely for a particular audience.
And sometimes I think I’m just tired of writing anything at all.
I may change my mind in which case I’ll delete this post and carry on. I’ve been known to build up funeral pyres for my efforts and not have the heart to touch the flame to the dead letters. But I wanted to give folks a fair warning so you don’t wonder what the hell happened to that weird guy who went by the name of a bird.
Cheers. Thanks for your patronage and the kind words you’ve given me while I’ve been around.