Happy New Year, dear readers! I pray 2022 brings an end to the epidemic and a return to respect, kindness and caring for your fellow human. That's it. That's all I ask. Well, truthfully there's so much more for which to ask, but I figured I'd start with the basics.
I'm beginning this year looking back and looking ahead.
Looking back...
I began this blog in January, 2008. At that time I was motivated by some galling treatment by an employer, a few friends, and several healthcare providers based solely on my diagnosis of depression. Those injustices fueled my desire to educate people about what mental illness actually looks like and about the stigma which perpetuated the kind of treatment I had received. I also wanted to support others like me, and I hoped I could help at least one person feel less alone.
I had no expectations when I began. Heck, expectations were the least of my concerns. I didn't even know what I was doing when I started. I wasn't a computer geek. Not by a long shot! I learned everything by doing it. It was a slow and frustrating process at times, but I did it.
I also didn't have any support prior to starting this blog. I shared my idea with many; friends, family, therapist, doctor, and at best I received a quizzical look. The more typical response was along the lines of, "Why would you want to write about depression," or "Who's going to want to read that?" I didn't have an answer to that last question, but I began my blog nonetheless.
It's now 14 years and thousands of posts later. I never anticipated I'd be writing my little blog for so long. Longevity never crossed my mind. I also never imagined the opportunities I'd be gifted as a result of my writing. I feel very fortunate. Finally, I never thought this blog, which I began to support others and educate the masses, would in fact end up saving my life on more than one occasion. Turns out the one person I ended up helping was me.
Looking ahead...
Having said all of the that, it is with incredibly mixed emotions I have decided to discontinue regularly writing Depression Marathon. I'm feeling so conflicted about this decision it's taken me 3 months to write that sentence!
I originally made the decision to quit writing in October, 2021. Rather than a creative, enjoyable outlet, writing my blog began to feel like an obligation. I often didn't feel like I had anything important or interesting to contribute, which fortunately for me was a direct result of how well I'd been feeling for nearly 18 months.
I want what I write to have meaning, perhaps make a difference. I don't want to just blab. That's never been my intent. So I made the decision to end Depression Marathon in October. But between figuring out the perfect wording and timing of the announcement and feeling guilt and anxiety about pulling the plug, I began having second thoughts.
The second thoughts were reinforced in December when my mood tanked a bit. I felt I once again had something meaningful to contribute. Then GoodRx wrote about my journey, and I felt I had a reason to stick around for potential new readers. Obviously, I'm still having second thoughts.
The reality is there are reasons to continue as is and reasons to discontinue this blog all together. I've decided not to go either route. Instead I'm going to experiment with discontinuing regular posts. And just so you know, I'm feeling conflicted about that decision as well. Part of me feels it would be better to just stop. But I can't do that, not yet anyway.
So I'll still be here. Depression Marathon will still be online, and I'll still value any comments you may have at any time. But I have decided to step away from regularly posting. I'll post if I have something to say, but I have no idea what that may look like. I'll see how that feels for a bit and then go from there.
Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I'm so very grateful to have had this outlet for 14 years. I'm grateful to all of you, especially those of you who are regular readers (probably the only souls still reading this post!). I'm a lucky woman. Thank you all for enriching my life.