Comeback

After taking an extremely long hiatus on doing one of my favorite things, I’ve finally seized that moment to make a return to this blog.

It’s been several months since I’ve last blogged periodically, over which there’s been so much that’s happened with both my writing and my life. Writing hasn’t ever stopped being a part of my everyday routine even though it might seem that way – still keep a moving journal, I write for the school newspaper and also pretty much am obligated to academically write several times a week thanks to college.

And there’s that too. Through this break, I /somehow/ managed to start college, finish my first semester and enter my second rather recently.It’s been an extremely wild ride, with several bumps and hurdles in the beginning months, taking on a high towards the end of the year and then turning back down in the sin wave that we seem to traverse in. But overall, starting college was and has been one of the most rewarding experiences I could ever have. And almost only because it’s been a change from everything that I’ve gotten used to over the years.

That’s what 2015 was – change. From graduating, moving states and to moving on.

But the new year of 2016 started, and it’s like the change toppled over to pure negativity. It hasn’t been smooth, no not at all. I thought I was finally going to reach that emotional and academic balance I’ve been longing for. I thought I was ready to switch home. But things haven’t been lately. Everything that I worked towards last year seems to be crippling down, and I’ve been going back through this downward spiral that I am far too familiar with from the past. With insecurities at an ever high, family so far away, self-doubt trickling at every step, not knowing how to manage transactions and re-evaluating my choices far too much, I’m not comfortable anymore and I don’t know what to do about it.

Except for going back to the remedy that worked for me months ago.

Writing.

Giving myself some time for myself to pause and take things slower, and being able to introspect every single point that seems to hold some sort of importance or change.

Because I’m sick of putting up a fake shell covered with smiles and laughter and with a shade of someone who has a hold of all her shit because that is obviously not me. The real me, who’s shaking inside this husk she’s hiding in, wants to break out of the covering and stand vulnerable.

I hope I’ll be okay.

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