Confession… or The Rules of Writing

I don’t think there are any rules. Just fall in love with writing.

I just sent this message to an acquaintance. I think it’s true.

Really, I’m turning up because I haven’t been here in a while. This month I started writing a book. About mental health – mine, specifically. So I haven’t been writing here. I sort of feel as if this ought to be a confession of sorts, just without the latticed wood, non-social distancing priest, and Catholicism.

I’m sorry. I haven’t been present here. I don’t feel as if I’ve been particularly present where I have been writing, or even at home, with all my kids and David. I’ve been dissociating a fair bit; never a good sign.

Whatever these woods are, we’ll pull out of them soon, I hope, or at least I’ll be able to see the wood for the trees… Even if it’s not nicely latticed, ready for confession.