You can see from my post history that this blog hasn't been active in almost two years.
I created this blog, and Ella, in hopes of having an outlet for my writing and reading that I didn't have to explain to anyone. Ella wasn't me. I wasn't Ella. She could do and say things that I was too afraid to for fear of judgement from certain people in my life. I let that fear drive me from the point of creating Ella to near insanity.
I wanted to separate my writing from my real life. There's so much inside my head that I'd like to write out and even publish but I didn't want my name attached to it. A pen name seemed appropriate and Ella was born. I spent my time reading and reviewing books in hopes that it would help me learn more about different writing styles and techniques. Instead of taking notes, I used it as a distraction from everything else in my world. I was literally hiding myself away from the world behind a stack of books.
I did eventually reveal to family and friends that I was Ella after I wrote the Book. I hate it so much that I don't even refer to it by name now. It's just the Book, as if it were a tragic accident. Sometimes, I really think it was. I tried to pretend that I was proud of the work that I'd done and published and put out into the world. I tried to promote it and accept criticism and compliments gracefully. All while I was dying inside. It was terrible. If it had been a book I was reviewing, it would have been marked a HUGE DNF.
I was spiraling deeper and deeper into depression not just from my writing but from everything around me. I was trying so hard to be a good mother, a good wife, a good friend, the list goes on. I was caring so much for other people in my life that I neglected every aspect of myself. Myself was no long a "self". I was just shell that was so close to broken that I could feel myself cracking. I let the weight of caring for others, worrying after others, worrying what others thought of me, consume me. I let all of that completely strip me of who I was and what I cared about. I had abandoned my ship and was treading water after everyone else's boat.
Living life with mental illness is very hard. Even when it's treated, it's still a struggle. Living life with several other people who also suffer from severe mental illnesses, both treated and untreated, can sometimes make life a living hell.
I have taken control back over myself and have been making it a point to take time out for myself for things that I enjoy. I've started back writing and reading. Book reviews should be posted soon. I refuse to let myself get back to such a broken place. I also refuse to let other peoples' opinions dictate how I live my life.
From now on I will be writing and posting under my real name, Tiffany. So if you see a strange new name, that's me. Ella has been put on a shelf for the time being. Maybe I'll bring her back out in the form of a character in a story I write.
Stick around. I promise I won't disappear this time!
