No More Books!

OK, that’s a straight up lie. In fact, I just added this one to my library…

Cover of Songbook by Nick Hornby

The truth is, I’m a little bit of a book addict. At least a book list addict. There are SO many books out there in the world that I want to read, so many that I will obviously never get around to.

Because I’m kind of obsessed with making lists (and checking them off!), I’ve been active in book challenges the last few years. This year, I’ve got about five different book challenges going on simultaneously. I may even complete one (or two or several) this year, because of a hot start. But while these have been fun, I’m not doing them again. Or at least not next year.

I get that the point of most book challenges is to help you stretch your reading horizons, introduce you to new things. But why waste time reading a fantasy or sci-fi or Western or (insert random genre here) best-seller if I’m not into that stuff? There are too many books I DO want to read for me to tackle the ones I don’t. Especially since I’m one of those crazy people who can’t NOT finish a book.

So no more book challenges for me, unless they’re strictly numbers based. I had also decided I would stop checking out book recommendations and “best of” lists, because I don’t need to add any more books to my TBR list. Of course, after I made myself that promise, I subsequently discovered several new reads from Book Riot’s Best Books of 2017 (So Far). That website is the bane of my existence!

Now it’s time to get back to reading one of the several books currently in progress. Am I in the mood for Malala or Obama?

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Getting Back to Life

A few months ago, I started this blog with the best of intentions (as I always do). I needed to get back to writing and expressing myself, if only as a way to battle my depression. I had been struggling with life, thinking everything was so dreary.

I had no idea.

My world came crashing down around me on April 10, the day my mother died. I guess it would be accurate to say that things came crashing down the day before, when I got the call from brother that she had been airlifted to the hospital with a massive brain bleed. I turned right around (I had just finished driving back from my college reunion) so I could have a chance to say good-bye. But the truth is, I never really got to say good-bye.

My mother was functionally brain-dead before any of us could get to her. She never heard anything that I said to her in the ICU, holding her still-warm, smooth hand.

The days and weeks that passed seem a blur. I’m still trying to pick myself back up. And so many of the things that occupied my thoughts aren’t even relevant anymore.

I do know that now I feel more alone than ever–and I’ve felt alone for a long time. It’s not that my mother and I were particularly close. We weren’t. But I do know that she loved me more than anyone ever has and ever will.

It hurts.

Some days are better than others, of course. I don’t actively avoid mourning her, but I don’t make a concerted effort to grieve, either. Sometimes thinking of her makes me smile. Sometimes it causes tears to roll down my face.

Regardless, I’m trying to pull myself together and move on. I need to give my life some meaning, instead of just going through the motions of day-to-day existence. I’m looking for a spark.

I don’t want to be trapped in this darkness anymore.

 

 

Stars can’t shine without darkness.

When it comes to blogging, I’m well aware that a cohesive theme is the ideal.

This blog will not be ideal.

Instead, it will be the musings/ramblings/observations/frustrations/random obsessions of this chick right here: Me.

I picked this blog title–and the introductory quote–because it inspires me. Because one of the biggest battles of my life is to survive the constant darkness that is depression. At times, it’s overwhelming, and I don’t know what my purpose is (or if I even have a purpose). So yes, that will likely be something I talk about.

But I’ll also talk about the things–most of them simple and seemingly insignificant–that bring me joy. Writing used to bring me joy. It stopped doing that long ago, but I’d like to give it another chance, so this is it. I’m sure I’ll write about books and pop culture and the nightmare that is our national government (I still can’t believe that this “stuff” that is happening in our nation’s capital is real).

Maybe I’ll have interesting insights, but maybe I won’t. I doubt that my words will be polished–at least not yet–but right now, it’s important that I at least start getting the words out. Because even when I’m at my lowest, and don’t truly believe it…I am a star.