I started blogging in college, and I unofficially quit in June. But like many things in life, this is something I just need to do.
The remnants of my last blog have disappeared in the confusion of the Internet, so you'll have to discover my story the hard way: bit by bit, piece by piece. Some of it is funny, some quite tragic. All of it is real, excepting my name.
I write for a living, for a regional magazine in a small minded town. I don't need the whole world knowing I'm crazy. It's not that I'm ashamed, it's that I worry about prejudice and hate and all of the horrible things that can happen when certain people in certain small towns know certain facts about you.
I can tell you this...
• I am 26 years old - a Cancer.
• I've been married for three years to an amazing man you'll come to know simply as Husband.
• I haven't eaten meat for over a year.
• I've been diagnosed with bipolar disorder for four years, but have exhibited symptoms since childhood.
• I haven't spoken to any member of my family for three years. I know that sounds harsh, but it's been crucial to my recovery.
There, of course, is more to come.
