Happy New Year, IWSG And Where The Hell Have I Been

Hello Imaginarians and Happy 2014!! Greetings from Chiberia. That's our new name around here. Yesterday we were officially colder than some parts of Antarctica. I haven't gone outside since Sunday afternoon when I trekked through thigh high drifts to clear a path from house to garage. I had to shovel in layers because the snow was so heavy and deep. Five, that's right five, scoops per square foot of snow. Made it all the way to the garage and around the side to the big door, only to discover a downhill ski run where my driveway should have been. My neighbor across the street came over and stood atop one of the drifts to avoid a passing snowmobiler (yes, they could ride snowmobiles on my sidewalk), then asked me if I needed help shoveling. Just then, her father stopped his snow blower and said "She ain't gettin that with a shovel." Bless them, they cleared our driveway so we can now get out. Chicagoans rock!

I hope these last months have seen you blessed and well. I've been gone so long I feel like it's been a hundred years. I have missed you all terribly. My absence was only going to be for a few weeks to finish some writing, but I got laid off, fell into a depression and got a respiratory infection. I got no writing done either. I've been miserable and I'm only now starting to come out of it. What a way to start a new year.

How fortuitous that my return has coincided with the Insecure Writers Support Group. My deepest apologies to Captain Alex J. Cavanaugh and the rest of you for being a very bad group member and not participating these last couple of months. I really needed to be part of this, be inspired by you all and yet, I shut myself out. In fact, I had disengaged from all creativity. I've been so depressed I could not put sentences together for a simple paragraph, not even stir myself to color or make a bracelet. Nothing. I became really isolated, doing only basic chores at home, looked for work and screwed around on Facebook and Twitter. And sleeping, God I slept twelve hours a day sometimes. I was and still am, a mess, but thanks to one of the sweetest friends ever, Michael Di Gesu, I am starting to get it together. He forced me out when I would have remained at home in my shell. I am more grateful to him than I can say. Thank you, Michael, you are the best.

It's amazing how deep you can fall into the dark and so fast, you don't even realize it. Creative spirits are especially vulnerable, I think to this creeping awfulness. I was to the point where I no longer cared about writing another word. I still haven't written, but I'm at least thinking about my writing again. I'm also going to be blogging again. One foot in front of the other starts the journey. It's a new year with new possibilities.