Nicky writes about returning to blogging after "a slow burning breakdown" during which he felt the need to stop in case anything triggered him:
Blogging was one of those things, all down to the fact that the only things I could to think of writing were dark or angst ridden topics, and spending a couple of hours writing them on a Sunday just kind of ruined things.
I know that feeling oh too well.
I've taken more breaks from blogging than I care to remember and have, after the fact, realised that such breaks are as reliable indicator of my mental health as any.
I also know the feeling of missing the blog while away; of knowing that I should really be writing no matter what.
It's a difficult choice – knowing when to persist and when to walk away. Sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do, you need to allow yourself the space to recover and regroup. I've written in the past about the need to do so for fear of having everything crash down around you.
There are times when staying away becomes almost a point of principle, a feeling that returning to the words will only put you right back where you started – descending into a dark pit that you feel the words won't help you escape.
As time passes, a sense of guilt wells up inside you. You know that you should be posting but, for whatever reason, can't bring yourself to do so. That knowledge knaws at you from inside, causes such internal conflict that you're not sure which way to turn.
As Nicky says:
The problem with re-engaging with things after a prolonged period of giving them all the double fingers is the added difficulty of being aware you're starting over.
... And blogging means feeling like everything I'm writing is disingenuous and phoney.
Amen to that!
There is a misplaced need to make the return a worthy one, of saying something profound, when all it really needs is a quick "Hello world, I'm still here." No essays or explanations needed – just a foot carefully placed on the first rung of the ladder.
Taking that first step requires a bravery most won't comprehend. A blogger usually has a compulsion to write, to publish, to share, but when that compulsion deserts you finding the wherewithal to put down some words and hit "post" can be terrifying.
No matter how irrational, the fear of messing it all up is real. The fear of exposing the wrong thing at the wrong time, of sinking into a self-made vortex of hurt and pain. It seems a bit silly looking in from the outside or in retrospect but, at the time, there is nothing as serious or potentially devastating.
Or so it seems.
It's good to see that Nicky feels comfortable and capable of sharing again, of putting down some words and letting them loose into the world.
It gets easier.