Once again, it’s been a while, hasn’t it?
When I started this blog, I just wanted a place I could dump my thoughts on anime series and maybe meet some like-minded people.
But eventually my posts—particularly my reviews— evolved. I began to care more about the look and feel of my work. They became longer, more dynamic and styled. I began using gifs, added spoiler-free sections to my reviews and analyzed shows with an eye I used in college when reading literature.
What once took me 30 minutes to an hour now began to take several hours and sometimes days. With the increase in resources, I began becoming anxious every time I sat down to write, and this didn’t just apply to my blogging: it infected my poetry as well, but that’s another story. In short, I ended up questioning why I even had a MA in creative and critical writing in the first place.
There were times I even found myself not wanting to watch anime because I didn’t want to have to write about anime. And that’s a big problem. As mentioned several times in my posts, anime saved my life and is a big part of what keeps me safe and gives me a feeling of belonging and much needed escapism. To have this space become threatened, tainted, was heartbreaking.
Y’all know that I was placed on furlough in mid-March due to the COVID-19 pandemic, and one would think this would naturally give me the time needed to work on those ever-piling-up reviews, but it didn’t. Instead, I fell into another spout of depression and found myself treading the endless tide of feeling worthless and alone.
Shortly after, there was the murder of George Floyd and the Black Lives Matter protests. I didn’t want to take away from this movement, and the marginalized voices which needed to be heard. This is not a bad thing. It did mean, however, silencing myself. Shrinking. And I was left feeling so despondent about the world. Could I have taken a different route? Yes. I could have, like many, advocated for black artists in the community and help lift them up. Indeed, I wanted to. But there was also the matter of mental health– these movements are battles, ones that are long and taxing. My problem was a didn’t have any strength to begin with at this point. I struggled to eat and sleep… I could barely manage showering once per week. There were no resources in my tank to give. And it took several therapy sessions for me to realize that was okay. It was okay to say nothing; It was okay to want to be able to do something and still not be able to do that something.
TL;DR: I was hurting and empty and felt like nothing I could say would matter or help. Nothing I could make would make a difference.
But today at work, for the first time in a very long time, I wanted to write. Perhaps want is too thin a word– it was a need, a hunger. And so, here I am, opening up and trying again. I’m going to try to start posting regularly again, my goal being at least once a week. Who knows if that’s actually possible for me with my brain, but I want to try. And I think wanting to try is what matters.
If you took the time to read this, I thank you. Your kindness inspires me to keep going, and to be better.
Watch on and stay safe, my dear annieme-niacs.