Spring is in the air

Some call it Pollen.

I had originally wanted to sit down every Sunday and to write, even if not a full post. Not as a rule (I try to avoid those) but to develop the pattern and to build up a few blogs in case I ever wanted to really publish these. If you have found this sight and have read any of the entries as of this publishing date, you likely stumbled across it by accident. I want the accountability that comes with publishing it online and the help from the actual writing of it, without having to worry about how people in my life see me offline.

One of the realities I have experienced is that asking the people in my life for help has a price, it changed the way they saw me fundamentally. At least that has been the case each of the three times I felt that helpless. Perhaps it was because I didn’t build up the case history of me not doing well in their eyes. I still project health until I absolutely can’t anymore, if faking it til I make it doesn’t help, I disappear for a while, trying to handle it internally, only then after still feeling the darkness in a way that can only be described as scary, I reached out. Turns out that they just saw me one way and seeing me differently was more than they could process. If I were to grade the outcomes of the 3 different times I reached, I would give them all an “D”.

I am still here so not a complete failure, but one did cost me my best friend, another depleted so much potential as the people who once welcomed me were no longer able to see me as anything but broken. The last attempt I made was after a particularly dark winter, and ended with me being told that I was just too sensitive.

My faith in God is strong, the faith that better will happen before Heaven, not so much. That is why it irritated me so much to hear the man of God dismiss my problems as a lack of faith and focus on God. Then preach from the pulpit that depression is caused by too much focus on yourself. He “knows because he felt sad before, and got over it”

I write this blog to give me The freedom of feeling however I am

actually Feeling, without having to feel the judgement in others mind.

If you found and read more than one of these before May 2026, You likely stumbled through an unfinished page, well done. I hope it will be as worth it for you as I do for me.

I have noticed a few problems. One, a specific story will come to mind while writing more than once, if you are in for the long haul like I am, you may read a few stories over and over.

Two, this is not how those words are spelled. While re-reading some of my own stories I noticed how easy it is to ignore the spelling and grammar functions on here.

Three, when I really need to write the most is when I am feeling the feelings fullest Like I am right now. It’s also the hardest time to write for me. Especially at times like these when I have been feeling unnecessarily down.

I say unnecessarily not because there are not sad things going on in my life, just no more than usual. I get stuck in a loop where I know the answers, I am using them to counteract the depression constantly. Reaffirming the positive, talking with God and keeping a track record of the things I am truly Thankful for. The problem.

It has been exhausting.

The results have been mixed.

I have been feeling increasingly more lonely over the last couple of years, but I am closer to accepting it.

The loneliness is not just for love either but for any real connection. To finish up an interaction with someone and feel like I have been heard and seen.

This is why I don’t want to write about this kind of stuff, there seems to be no point. Acknowledging my loneliness does not help solve the loneliness any more than ignoring it does.

What would? I don’t know but I would damn near kill for a real hug right now.