I haven’t been committed to a lot of things that I love. Over the last six months, I acted out of necessity and habit, more than desire. I haven't felt like me. I forced myself to be 'me,' or the idea of me, in hopes of locating that misplaced identity. And it showed. It showed in my over analysis of situations, it showed in my receptiveness and reactions, it showed in my habits, it showed in how I treated those whom I hold close to my heart. But most importantly, it showed within myself.
I have felt misalignment in my writing, and have been unsure as to how to navigate it. I started this blog to share my experience as someone living with herpes. How far I had fallen from myself, how I overcame the stigma, how I learned to love myself again. I’ve had several of my followers reach out and ask, “What’s going on? We need you. Where is your writing? Why stop now?” I don’t want to write something just to put media out there; I want it to matter. When I write, it has to come from within. When I truly care about something, or someone, the words will flow. And you know if you’re on the receiving end of them--they’re a direct extension of my heart.
Something I have needed to accept is that my experience with herpes will always be changing. So will my writing. So will my life. Herpes is a constant force in my body. And yeah, it crosses my mind a couple times a day, but not in the way it once did. It does not overpower my thoughts, nor does it dictate my moods. Given my interests and career goals, herpes will always be a significant part of my identity--but I need to be open to the capacity it chooses to maintain. At present, that piece has taken a backseat. It is not the most important part of my journey. Happiness is.
Closely associated with my status as a herpes-postive individual, is my journey to self-love. That's the piece I need to focus on. Reflecting over the past few months, love of thyself has been an overwhelming battle. Acknowledging my unhappiness was not an easy thing for me to admit to myself. Mentally, my head was in one location while I was still physically present in another. I was living out of bags. I was not sleeping well. I was not taking pleasure in the activities I once loved and took great pride in. I sincerely think my anxiety encroached into a more depressive state--a side of myself that I had not witnessed before.
Relocating to a new city (blog to follow) brought my attention to the people that I love. I have not been the best friend, or the most loving person that I know myself to be, and I'm sorry for that. There are things I wish I could've phrased better, or wish I had been more fully-present for while I was still in MD. Instead of sitting here wallowing in "I wish," I am committing myself to a happier, more balanced me, a journey I look forward to sharing with everyone--but mostly with myself.