I’m torn between extreme guilt regarding my rather lax attention to this site, and a rut of unspiration. Because I feel compelled to create new and ridiculous words for everything. It’s not even so much a rut as a path I don’t really want to go down. I’ve never really been one to latch on to depressive blogging. I feel like there are random occassions in which it’s acceptable, but otherwise, it can lead the writer down a path of complaining about their day and letting out feelings as they would with a diary, and I draw the line at making this site a pool of slowly oozing angst that readers either avoid at all costs or drip false sympathy over.

Don’t get me wrong, the entire time I’ve been silent hasn’t been a pit of depression. But there have been some recurring themes of angst, frustration and just general sadness during those weeks, considerably more so than usual in my life. I’m not writing this for sympathy. I just want to get it out of my system and get a blog up, and I’ve no inspiration as far as funny or entertaining blogging material right now.

For a little while, I’ve felt like I can do no right by the people I love. I love my friends to bits, but some of them are slightly demanding to be around and require me to pay them a certain amount of attention, or tone down the language I use a little in their presence, or constantly agree with them and their point of view, or countless other little details in order to keep them happy. Normally, I cope quite well with this juggling act, but over the last week I’ve just felt like the juggler who dropped one ball and destroyed the whole rhythm. In order to fix my relationship with one person I was cutting off the amount of attention someone else needed and upsetting them. And when I began to retreat and spend a lot of time in the company of one of the few, easygoing people I don’t have to try for, I managed to upset pretty much everyone and their dog. I think it’s settled now, although I can’t be sure, but I’ve hated having to work so hard to keep everyone happy. I just want life to go on, really. I don’t care for friendship drama at all.

Then I’ve had another couple of people decide to share their problems with me and ask for my advice on things constantly, which I’m neither qualified nor particularly good at in my opinion, but I’m happy to do nonetheless, because they’re my friends. There’s a point though, when this becomes highly frustrating. I hit that point when I had two people emailing me more than five times each day, asking for help I didn’t know how to give.

My last predicament is purely my own, which is a rare thing for me to have, but serious enough to cause me to devote quite a good deal of time agonizing over it. Having all of these other problems happen when I had a problem of my own to deal with really wasn’t ideal, but I’ve never been one to confide in many people about my own problems on account of not having many, so I couldn’t use it as an excuse. I only really confide in one person about things that are really bothering me, and when the problem involves that person, as this one does, I’m lost. I accidentally confided in another friend today, and long story short, wish I hadn’t.

I’m sorry for wasting minutes of your life with depressing garbage. At least now you know where I’ve been, if you care. The bright side of the situation is that, I think, it’s almost resolved. The first two issues seemed to have cleared up – I think I’ve got my rhythm back again and I can juggle properly. The third will be an issue for a while, but while I don’t want to go into it here, I can cope with that.