This site is a bit of an experiment. It is equal parts blog, confessional, therapy, and very likely much more.
In 2011 my father died rather suddenly of a stroke. Since then I've struggled with the ups and downs of depression, anxiety and the discovery of who I really am and what it means to be me.
During that time I've kept a journal and as smaller ideas took shape, I turned them into written stories, sketches and drawings, or other forms of expression.
A Life Alone is where I'll finally get around to sharing all that output as I've finally come to realize that to do otherwise is unhealthy at best, self-destructive at worst. I know it looks sparse right now (launch day), but I have over 200 piece of content lined up.
My only hope for the site is that it will help others to overcome similar difficulties and will perhaps inspire others to share their own journeys.
Thank you for taking the time to visit.
Your humble host,
- From childhood’s hour I have not been
- As others were—I have not seen
- As others saw—I could not bring
- My passions from a common spring—
- From the same source I have not taken
- My sorrow—I could not awaken
- My heart to joy at the same tone—
- And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—
- Then—in my childhood—in the dawn
- Of a most stormy life—was drawn
- From ev’ry depth of good and ill
- The mystery which binds me still—
- From the torrent, or the fountain—
- From the red cliff of the mountain—
- From the sun that ’round me roll’d
- In its autumn tint of gold—
- From the lightning in the sky
- As it pass’d me flying by—
- From the thunder, and the storm—
- And the cloud that took the form
- (When the rest of Heaven was blue)
- Of a demon in my view