I Used To Be A Blogger


Remember me? I used to be a blogger.

I used to post three times a week. Some of you read my work. Some of you read it all the time, and encouraged me to keep writing. Remember when I posted regularly, and you all cheered me on. I do. I remember.

But lately, I’ve been treading water. No sense calling it writer’s block, when depression is the actual culprit. I suppose I saw it coming, from a distance. I started writing less and less–– always a sign that I’m losing my mojo, since writing is one of the surest ways I identify myself. “I’m a writer;” it took a long time to say that comfortably. No sooner did I start to get easy with the phrase, and I fell into a deep hole.

It’s been months of struggling. It’s been two years of processing and trying to figure out some hard things.

It’s been days and days of looking out the window and hoping this will pass.

It’s been visits with family and friends, where I push through and force a smile, and pull out the extrovert others expect–– while my introvert self flinches and cringes.

It’s been some days that were scary and darker than I care to write about… now.

It’s been tough. Really tough.

                          But, I am tougher

I am tougher.

 I’m a writer. I’m a blogger. I will take my baby steps in words and phrases.

I am digging out. I’m writing a post to get back in the saddle. I’m looking at the dozens of drafts and partially written posts (because, well, I’m a writer. I may not have had the motivation or ability to put it out there, or even get out of my chair by the window, some days, but I have occasionally dipped my pen in the well), and I’m figuring out how to ride this horse again.

I’m challenging myself to really move forward. Baby steps, I just told someone dear, who is down further than I am now–– but not so far down that I don’t remember the view. It’s all about baby steps. It’s all about knowing that healing is always possible.

Always. Always. Always.

I don’t say that blithely. I am not out of the hole. The sides are slippery and high, but I know I can get out, baby step by baby step. I know I can keep putting pieces together and move toward a happier place. I believe in healing.

Always.

And while I haven’t been blogging, I have been slowly but steadily editing my novel (yes, again) and submitting chapters to my writing group. Because, I’m still a writer. Those have been important baby steps that my writing women have supported me through. Gratitude in heaps to their loving edits and nudges. Along the path of healing, there are so many people who hand you a lifeline, if you can look through the blue haze and see it. Some days, that little bit of writing has saved me. The sharp edge was scary close for a long while. And I admit: I stepped too close, more than once. But I  grabbed the lifelines.

I used to be a blogger. The stats and comments meant everything. The reassurance from each of you was a dose of sunshine every week. And maybe I have to start all over. A lot of people figured I’m gone for good, and moved on. I miss some faces that used to make me smile. But, I’m back, and I’ll start where I have to.

IMG_2797

I started the steps forward with a new hair cut. I’ve always thought that cutting my hair is a great way to reset my compass. It’s shaved very short all around, with a longer strip down the top/center. A wide mohawk, some might call it. I shaved my head as a reminder of the razor edge I don’t want to stand on anymore. Each time I look in the mirror, my hair reminds me that I’m stronger than the depression, anxiety and issues that yanked me off balance. I’ll step back and take the baby steps, until I’m on steady ground again. Some people don’t like my new look, while others see the determination it represents. For me, it’s a daily message: I look in the mirror and remind myself that I own the edge; the edge doesn’t own me.

So, I’m back. If you’re still here; I’m grateful. You have no idea–– or maybe you do, how much it means to me. If you’re new, welcome! My last post was in honor of my father and was much longer. I posted it exactly three months ago. It’s been a long three months. Check it out, get cozy and stay around. I’ll be posting again soon.

I used to be a blogger, and turns out: I still am. I’m taking baby steps in blogging, and this is step one. I hope you stick around; I could use the support.

Check out the Daily Post and add your own thoughts about Overcome.

Here’s what I’m listening to right now:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=syPzVZXrSlc

*     *     *

GIPYKAPOW!  I didn’t meet the 2016 goal for Likes on the Tales From the Motherland Facebook page; missed it by 14! So this year, I’m not setting a goal. I’m grateful for each Like I get. Have you stopped by to spread some fairy dust? Follow me on Twitter, LeBron James does (yes, for real)! Most importantly, if you like a post I’ve written, hit Like and leave a comment. Honest, constructive feedback is always appreciated. Click Follow; you’ll get each new post delivered by email, no spam.

©2011-2017  All content and images on this site are copyrighted to Dawn Quyle Landau and Tales From the Motherland, unless specifically noted otherwise. If you want to share my work, I’m grateful, but please give proper credit and Link back to my work; plagiarism sucks!

 

About Dawn Quyle Landau

Mother, Writer, treasure hunter, aging red head, and sushi lover. This is my view on life, "Straight up, with a twist––" because life is too short to be subtle! Featured blogger for Huffington Post, and followed on Twitter by LeBron James– for reasons beyond my comprehension.
Aside | This entry was posted in Blogging, Connections, Depression, Healing, Honest observations on many things, Life, Mental Health, My world, Wrting and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

96 Responses to I Used To Be A Blogger

  1. James Oliver says:

    Good to see you’re back.

    I know what you mean about that mojo thing. I declared 2017 the year I get my mojo back. I’m still waiting…

    Like

    • Sometimes we have to dig in and just keep walking. You know, being VOTYs made it easy to feel like everything after was a let down… but baby steps. Thanks for stopping by, James! I don’t know if you’ve ever commented, but you know I love hearing from you! 🙂

      Like

  2. Dawn…as a guy who deals with BiPolar, PTSD, ADHD and a bunch of other ABCD Syndrome/Disorder/Stuff, hang in there my sweet friend. Just when things look the darkest, the Light will shine through. You just wrote my story. Thank you. Much love and respect…..Toby

    Liked by 1 person

    • Toby, this means so much more than you can know! You have been such a support. I think of you so often and wish you healing thoughts. I do believe we can both take those steps forward, despite the ABCDs! Thanks for being there, now and all the time. You’r my rock star! xo

      Liked by 1 person

  3. mamaheidi60 says:

    I’m glad you’re back. I love your writing. I love your bare, raw, honest writing, something I haven’t quite been ready to do, to put it out there in print.I’ve started a few pieces though. And your haircut! I totally get the shorter and shorter. Not for any deep psychological reasoning – just it is so easy! Hope to sit with you this Fall, over a cuppa. Love you my dear friend!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. janowrite says:

    I’m new here, but this post drew me in. It was brave of you, and so articulate. You certainly are a writer!

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks so much Jan, and and welcome to Tales From the Motherland, and the world of blogging. There are so many great, great people out there sharing their stories. I know you’ll find your niche, and your audience. Thanks for taking the time to read my work and spread some love. I appreciate it right now… and always.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Lisa Shea says:

    I missed your writing. You are incredibly talented 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  6. nmarkos says:

    It makes me so happy to read one of my favorite writer’s work again! You’re very talented at putting difficult things into words, both fiction and nonfiction. I always want to read what you have to say.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. You’re a writer! We all have setbacks and take breaks. Post -election, I felt I couldn’t write anything that made any sense of the world. Then there’s censorship imposed by my kids, so what’s left? So I starting back, infrequently, but trying to capture the wonders of daily life. Maybe trivial compared to the issues in the world, but I’m writing for my appreciative, albeit small, audience. Keep at it, Dawn, your fans are with every little step. xo
    ps. love the haircut. You’re very brave. Not sure I could do it.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks so much Lisa; you have encouraged me the entire way. See, if nothing else, the friendships I’ve found via this blog are worth it! So glad we get to see each other soon! Something tells me my haircut will work better in your neck of the woods. 😉

      Like

  8. Lynn says:

    As I’m reading this and literally reading your lines about the edge, Lady Gaga is singing “On the edge of glory and I’m hanging on a moment with with you. ” you ‘ve got that edge, Dawn, and we’re hanging with you. 😚

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Cathy Ulrich says:

    Hello, dear Friend. Love the haircut and the post, Dawn. You have always inspired me with your wonderful heartfelt writing and your courage to share so many of the aspects of your life and your insights. I will always be a fan and I so appreciate you!

    Cathy

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Barbara D says:

    Keep taking them…baby steps!!!
    I’ve learned the best quality I have is being resilient! Life throws us things no one could imagine, too many to list. Best you can do, keep trying. Trying your best, even if it’s just surviving! Also, encouraging, like you’re doing now through your blog!
    Sending you positive vibes and healing love! Remember, you are not alone in your struggle.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Good to have you back, Dawn. I like the new do- it puts your loveliness front and center. xoxo

    Liked by 1 person

  12. Marian says:

    Brave. Keep on healing and keep on writing.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. SUSAN B VORE says:

    Hi, Dawn. Your writing is powerful, articulate, and honest. I think about you often and hope you keep moving step by step away from the edge and into a place that is comforting and supports you to fully reconnect with your vibrancy and passion. Everytime I go to my bookclub, I wish you were there, too, to share your perspectives and ideas.
    Sending you love and hugs.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. I love your hair and what it represents for you, and I love the honesty of your writing. I haven’t blogged anything myself for ages but will take this post as a nudge to also get back in the saddle.
    Stay strong my friend xx

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Carrie Rubin says:

    Sorry to hear you’re going through such a rough patch. These crazy times and world events don’t help either. I love your new haircut though! Makes you look young, strong, and determined. 😊

    Liked by 2 people

    • Thanks Carrie! It’s been a rough few years, actually, and yes: current events do NOT help. Admittedly, most of this lies squarely off the orange monster’s shoulders, but some days that just makes me want to dig a bigger hole! ALWAYS happy to see you in my comments, and appreciate the support you’ve given over and over again.

      Liked by 1 person

  16. Dawn, I have no idea what you’ve been going through, but I’m so happy to read that your workin’ your way back. ((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((Dawn)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

    janet

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Hydra says:

    Good to see you again, Dawn! Wow, you’re working on your novel! Yep, you’re a writer.

    Some of the best words of encouragement I’ve received are, “Keep moving forward “. And Tinkerbell’s advice to “Think lovely thoughts “.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Pick up the pen and think of yr sweet little grandson!

    Sent from my iPad

    >

    Liked by 1 person

  19. June says:

    Dawn…I love this blog. Good writing makes you stop and think. More importantly, it makes you feel. You made me feel. Keep writing. Hugs ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  20. You’ve been in my thoughts. Been struggling too, since late winter. Not exactly depression, but a bit of hell as well. Glad you published this. I know about writing lots of drafts and days when I can’t even string coherent thoughts together in my head, never mind write. Like today. Keep taking those baby steps.

    Liked by 1 person

  21. Mike Lince says:

    Dawn, I empathize with your story as you share your innermost personal thoughts and forge on courageously. You are a deep thinking and feeling person, which makes you vulnerable when life comes at you in larger than bite-size chunks. I have been there, near the abyss. It is a dark and forbidding place. Fortunately, I had people to guide me back. I hope you take advantage of that, too. You can see from the comments that you are surrounded by people who love and appreciate you. Like the rest of your fans, I am here to cheer you on and to celebrate your successes! – Mike

    Liked by 2 people

  22. jgroeber says:

    So much beauty and strength, in your words, in your person (new haircut especially!), and even in your time away. Good to see you back. I never doubted you for a second, writer friend, and I never will. xo

    Liked by 1 person

  23. Laila says:

    Nice hearing from you again ❤ And you know – as long as you are still breathing it’s not to late for a change ☺

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Jackie Weber says:

    I am so happy to see you writing again. I definitely understand the loss of mojo and fighting depression. I am truly proud to see you be so forthcoming and put forth the effort. I look forward to reading more as you go. I know you can defeat the hole, baby step by baby step. ❤️

    Liked by 1 person

  25. lilie215 says:

    So glad to see you. Many can feel, and share, your story. We lead and follow you on to forward.

    Liked by 1 person

  26. kstoloski says:

    As Eileen says, “I love the bones of you!!” Looking forward to being with you. You are such an inspiration to me. Your courage takes my breath away. 143

    Liked by 1 person

  27. Katharine says:

    Wonderful to see your face, the new hair, your words, even if they aren’t the happiest words ever, oh boy do I relate.
    Big virtual hugs,
    Kath

    Liked by 2 people

  28. Love your new ‘do! Welcome back! I’m struggling with a lot of the same. Not depression so much (which I’ve dealt with most of my life plus anxiety) but simple lack of mojo. I used to feel that magical push to write, but it seems to have faded away. I struggle just to get a short post out now. Once I do write, I hate every word I’ve written. Gah! I keep telling myself if I can start cranking out more posts, the writing will flow easier, but I am stuck. I’m sick of how I write (does that make any sense?) It’s old and boring and blah. I need something new and fresh. Anyway, sorry for the ramble—good to “see” you on WordPress again. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • jgroeber says:

      So glad you wrote this. That’s it for me. I’m sick of how I write. I feel like I keep writing the sane thing so why spend the time (but if I spent the time perhaps I would eventually write something new, right? But still…) Wondering if this is the cycle of blogging for most?
      On the other hand, Dawn, you always seem to have such variety. So get back to it! (When you feel right about it, of course.)

      Liked by 2 people

      • We all see ourselves SO differently than others do. I feel like my writing falls so flat and boring, and the two of you inspire me. That my words inspire you, in any way, is humbling and meaningful. Thanks for the virtual, writerly, powerful hug.

        Liked by 1 person

    • Darla, your “ramble” sums up everything I feel about writing right now. So many things adding to my dark spots, but my inability to write really feeds my blues. It’s sad to know that so many of us feel this way, but I am happy to be in such loving, understanding, supportive company. Know that I’ve got your back too. Love your writing and stand with you.

      Liked by 1 person

  29. Victoria says:

    I’m so glad you’re back, writer! Strong, gut-punchy, vulnerable. You, your writing, and your new hair are inspiring. xo

    Liked by 2 people

  30. noahezra says:

    am glad you’re back but mortified to hear about the reasons you were gone I feel a sense of kinship, a feeling that I should have known when I actually barely know you. But that’s who you are. You draw people near and we care and we miss and we wish you well and we wish you better. I am sorry I have been the emotional “taker” by virtue of my HD. It’s not fair to you. I am here for you too. Love.

    Liked by 1 person

    • You have NEVER been a taker, Sarah. I get so much support from you, and heave never thought otherwise. Do NOT turn my shit in on yourself. It’s mine. We know each other thru’ our writing, and a lovely day spent face to face, and I believe that’s so much more impactful than most can imagine. It’s real and raw. Thanks for your support friend, I feel it! Love, right back at you!

      Liked by 1 person

  31. BuzzCut says:

    Welcome back Dawn and I look forward to resuming reading you. I’m familiar with the abyss and I envy your Mohawk (my daughter said I look like a cone-head when I’ve tried to grow the middle stripe so I just keep it at 1/4″ all around). Raise your eyes up everyday and set your determined chin forward…march!

    Liked by 1 person

  32. I was just thinking about your blogs the other day, wondering if you were still working them. Have missed you on Friday Fictioneers, although I know, absolutely, that sometimes one must step back, take breath or two or twenty-five or . . . before tentatively putting a foot back in the ring to test the vibrations of lifel. Welcome back, friend, welcome.

    Like

  33. etomczyk says:

    Dawn, I’m so very sorry to hear about your recent journey. I wondered why I hadn’t seen you around lately. So glad you’re starting to write again. Hoping your writing will give you the leg up you need, and with “baby steps” you’ll be able to seize the day again. Keeping you in my prayers.

    Like

  34. susanissima says:

    Dawn, you speak for many … blessings. Keep taking little steps until you’re ready to fly. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  35. Sharon Jenkins says:

    I was glad to see you show up once again. I treasure your writings, and have forwarded many of your blogs on.
    Today is a new beginning for me- my 55th birthday, and retirement after more than 34 years in the same job. I’ve been fighting depression, health issues, and all that comes with getting older. But, it’s a new day. I carry around a notepad with ideas and plans of what I want to do. The start- a new puppy that I adopted a few days ago. So, here’s to lifting the fog, and brighter times ahead for us both.
    Baby steps…

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sharon, Mazel Tov! What an incredible series of new things for you! Working at any job for 34 years is something to be really proud of! You were a baby when you started, and now you are in your prime! Embrace that 55 and make it the start of better health, a dog who loves you, and a notebook full of bucket list items that you check off! Thanks for sharing my work, encouraging me, and inspiring me to walk along too! Yes, baby steps!

      Like

  36. Pingback: Flat-Lined | TALES FROM THE MOTHERLAND

  37. Baby steps and beautiful soulful blue eyes– good to see you weaving your tender, brave thoughts and battles, Dawn. Keep going and I will keep reading.

    Liked by 1 person

  38. Valery says:

    I admit, I’ve selfishly missed your writing. The journeys, the heartache, the sarcasm, the giggles. But it’s yours. And I love it, and you, just the way you are. If you weren’t as sensitive, you’d miss so many of the subtleties in life. And that would show in your writing. Allowing yourself to take a break, that takes courage. Baby steps, giant steps, any steps you need to breathe, heal, grow. The quality of your writing does not depend on the quantity, but you know that. You’ve got amazing strength in there, I’ve seen it. I’m so glad that it’s still with you. I so wish we weren’t on opposite coasts. Virtual hugs are nice, but… y’know? ❤143

    Liked by 1 person

  39. Psychobabble says:

    I’m still here. I’ve missed you!

    Liked by 1 person

  40. Welcome back. I, too, lost my motivation to blog last year when my father passed away. I decided to archive the blog and am just now (10 months later) considering reviving it again. Not sure, though. Meanwhile, I self-published a collection of essays titled Musing Off the Mat, which is the name of my blog. It’s a “best of” blog posts based on reader feedback. I wanted to have something for my daughters to hold and keep from my blogging days. You can buy it on Amazon.

    Good luck. Keep writing!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks Joyce. I’m so sorry about your father. It’s a painful loss, and no doubt writing isn’t always the answer. May you find strength going forward. I appreciate your kind words of encouragement; thank you!

      Like

  41. Love the haircut Dawn. You know, I’m very hit and miss around here….but I always look for you 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  42. Hi Dawn, welcome back .
    I really needed to read your words . Precisely at this moment I happen to be standing in my own gym that my sister and I had opened two weeks ago (crazy, I’ve been out of the loop here too ) and spent half hour bawling on the floor for no other discernable reason than that I am profoundly sad. I don’t know if it’s the placebo effect, but somehow reading words that I’m sure we all know are true within us, it helps . So thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

  43. Hi Dawn,
    I came across your blog and am inspired by your courage. Courage to get up and start again- courage to process- courage to be vulnerable. I look forward to reading more. Love the Stefan GIF and fairy dust!!!
    Stephanie

    Liked by 1 person

    • Welcome to Tales From the Motherland, Stephanie, and thanks for your kind words. I appreciate you taking a chance on a new space, and your thoughtful words of encouragement. We could all use some fairy dust, right? 😉

      Like

  44. Pingback: Photographer Interview – Susan Mah – Salvadore (Mental Health/PTSD/Self Help) | toofulltowrite (I've started so I'll finish)

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