…remake myself. A new, different, revised version. One that maybe won’t use this blog anymore. Maybe I’ll start over. Maybe I can do that when the six-year-old child has graduated high school and is moving out of the house (Christ, that thought makes me sad…). Maybe then. Maybe by then the young people in this family who suffer and hate themselves and self-harm and fight demons in their heads will have found help and healing and peace and serenity.
I don’t know.
Once upon a time I thought I wanted to tell stories. Draw pictures on pages the way my favourite authors did (and still do).
Now I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m getting old. My own health is in question. I have no more energy. The younger, the prettier, the brighter…they have the upper hand.
Maybe I will quit.
Or maybe I won’t. I guess time will tell.