It’s been a while since I’ve written here.
I wish I could say my absence was because life got busy, I lost track of time, or I simply didn’t have anything to write about. The truth is almost the opposite. I’ve had too much to write about, and for a while, I didn’t have it in me to put any of it into words.
Part of my absence was because I was incarcerated. But even after I came home, a different kind of confinement followed me.
Depression.
There was a point where I basically gave up on life without actually saying the words “I give up.” I was still here. I was still waking up every day. I was still going through the motions when I had to. But inside, I stopped caring about so many of the things that once made me me.
Things I used to enjoy stopped feeling enjoyable. Things I used to look forward to felt like work. Dreams I once had started feeling too far away to even think about.
And one of the hardest parts has been being away from my girls.
There really aren’t words big enough to explain what that does to a mother. Every birthday, holiday, milestone, first day of school, random Tuesday, or ordinary moment that passes is another reminder of time I can’t get back.
Some days I can turn that pain into motivation.
Other days, it feels like that same pain is sitting on my chest asking me why I should even keep trying.
But somehow, I’m still here.
Maybe not the same version of myself that started this blog. Maybe not as optimistic. Maybe a little more guarded, tired and scarred by things I never imagined I would experience.
But I’m here.
And lately I’ve realized thp at maybe I don’t need to wait until my life is completely put back together before I start living it again.
Maybe finding myself isn’t going to happen all at once.
Maybe it starts with something as small as opening this blog and writing again.
The Unspoken Battles was created for exactly that—the battles people fight that nobody sees. The things we’re ashamed to admit. The moments when “I’m okay” is easier than explaining everything happening underneath it.
So I’m coming back.
Not because everything is suddenly better. It isn’t.
Not because I have some inspirational ending to give you. I don’t.
I’m coming back because writing used to give me an outlet. It gave my experiences somewhere to go besides staying trapped inside my head. And right now, I need something that belongs to me again. Something that gives me a reason to create, reflect and maybe even connect with somebody else who is fighting their own unspoken battle.
I’m hoping that writing here regularly again will give me back a little bit of the purpose I feel like I lost.
I want to talk about incarceration. Depression. Motherhood. Missing my children. Relationships. Mistakes. Growth. Starting over. The judgment that follows you after your worst chapters. The days when you're motivated and the days when getting through the day itself feels like an accomplishment.
I don't want this blog to be a highlight reel.
I want it to be real.
Because healing isn't always pretty. Growth doesn't happen in a straight line. And sometimes surviving doesn't look inspirational at all.
Sometimes surviving is simply deciding, “I'm going to try again tomorrow.”
So this is me trying again.
One post at a time.
One day at a time.
And hopefully, somewhere between these words, I’ll start finding pieces of myself again.
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