Bibliosphere

 I never know the right way to start a post. Hello? No intro, just go? Greetings to the 4 consistent readers that I'm probably mostly related to? Anyway, I'm here. I don't know if I'm back, but I'm here right now. My summer has been probably the toughest I've ever had. And that includes both 2020 and the summer I was camp director, both exceedingly difficult summers. But I truly think this one was worse. Everything has been a mess, personally, professionally, health... ally? I don't want to get into specifics for a number of reasons, but I'm going to be picking up pieces of my life for a while still. I've got a very difficult decision to make soon. Difficult indeed. And I'm hopeful for the future, but I'm not looking forward to pulling the trigger on this decision, because there are things that I will have to pay for in any way I go. And also because of a great deal of uncertainty surrounding it. In picking up my life again, I am trying some ...

 This is going to be an emotional post. I am processing something I don't even want to tell my friends and family (so if you're reading this, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but please do tell me when you read this). This week, I didn't get an answer I wanted. After about 6 wonderful months of relief from a decade of anxiety and depression, things got worse again. Around last September, things got worse. Upon reflection, what really started it, what my first and only infection with covid-19. Since then, I've struggled with what I've come to know are many of the symptoms of long covid. I didn't think this at first. First, I assumed I was tired, that my mental illness had come back, that I wasn't caring for myself properly and it was my fault. Then it was work stress that I blamed, the things I was asked to do, and the hours that I worked. I said, this will get better, if I can force myself to do all the right things. Well, I've been doing all the rig...