This is one of the more challenging articles I’ve written for GBM. I’ve been kicking around the idea of writing something for a while, but rather than writing about my life, I was too busy living it. Now that the dust has settled, and the roaches have gone (which is a topic for another post), I feel the need to write something. I’ve gone through so much these past several months, but before I get to that, I went through a lot just thinking about whether I wanted to keep GBM going or not.
For those who don’t know, GBM stands for Getting Better, Man, and not Great Bowel Movement (sorry, but the rude part of me can’t help it sometimes).
So yeah, I had another moment of existential angst about whether to keep this blog going. You see, I have an “actual” website at sedone.me, which I’ve been tinkering with forever. I’m not sure what to do with it, and I’ve thought about writing these blog articles there, but somehow it doesn’t feel right. At least for now. Anyway, I have to write, and I have to publish something.
It’s Friday night, and I’m living by myself for the first time in almost 20 years. It’s been like this for about a month. It’s not that I don’t have things to write about, it’s that I have too much to write about (how the aforementioned situation happened , for example), and I’m not sure where to begin, or how much to reveal, or more importantly, what I even think about it all, but that’s probably a good problem for a writer to have.
Writing helps me to figure things out (just felt like stating the obvious).
I’ve got some cool Celtic music playing in the background, and incense burning. Sometimes I’m overcome by waves of emotion, which isn’t altogether bad, but I don’t relish it. I know it’s something I need to go through, but that doesn’t always make it better. But after all, this blog is called Getting Better, Man, and the point of it is for me to be able to say that to anyone who happens to ask.
So yeah, it’s getting better, man.
image credits: Wikimedia Commons