Another pause

I'm sorry but please read!

Hello to all of you, you have no idea how much I appreciate you being here.

This publication- and writing more generally- is my raison d’être. That more than ten thousand people read these essays is a source of tremendous pride and brings me a deeper sense of personal achievement than I have ever felt before.

Believe it or not (I know moxie posts have been notably lacking) I have written a lot recently. I have also been in an incredibly deep depression. About a month ago I stopped drinking for many reasons. One of them was that I knew I was unwell and that I needed to get better with a clear head. I was a social drinker but I am a very social person and that means that I drank quite frequently. While I have personally never once had a drink to numb my feelings, it seems that my chronic use of a depressant had that effect irrespective of my intentions. All of that to say, I have been crying all of the time and I do not think it is wise for me to publish my recent writing until I am on the other side of this cloud.

I have once again paused paid subscriptions. I will be back at some point in the near future and I hope you will be here too.

Thank you for everything, I love you. I really mean that.

Hannah Stella

PS: below is a small vignette about my current state of mind. It is short and sad and very very rough but I hope it gives you something. I hope that when I am back, you’ll consider sticking with me and becoming a paid subscriber. (I do need to make a sustainable income at some point and writing honestly is the thing I am best at doing) I have always been truthful here and it is my intention to be in the future. I am being truthful now. I need to space to speak with a bit of hindsight about this period of my life.

PPS: I recently committed to donating 10% of my income from this month and next to addiction related charities. I will donate 10% of the next two months where I made a real income, likely June and July.

…

Every morning I wake up and imagine an old fashioned sour cream donut. I imagine table full of them. Greasy and crispy and coated in thick, sugary glaze. I imagine living in a large house with a swimming pool and a manicured yard, making donuts for my children. A donut mom.

But I am not a donut mom, I am a single, childless, divorcee who cannot understand how people stay on the straight and narrow and resist the temptation to open every door that says “do not enter”. How do people manage their curiosities? I’ve never understood it and I wonder if I can.

I make my bed and take my supplements and drink water. I put on work out clothes, walk three miles, and go to pilates. Physical activity is good for your mental health, I’ve heard. I watch myself in the mirror as I plank, bridge, crunch. It is unbelievable to me that I can hold up a body that feels so heavy with the weight of my sadness and loneliness. I wonder if the instructor can see how empty I feel. I smile at strangers and sometimes meet a friend for lunch. I joke and laugh and those things feel real, I am grateful that I can still manage human connections. I like people, I suspect I like being in the company of others more than is normal. I go home and I sit on my bed and read. I write for two hours. I do not allow myself to look at my phone or browse the web. Blinking curser and typed words, only. Sometimes no words come so I sit with the page.

I get dressed even if I have no where to go. I gaze at my reflection and floss my teeth three times a day and when night comes I sit in bed, alone and sober. I cry, heaving sobs, my nose runs and my eyes puff and finally sleep comes- often at two or three in the morning. One of my cats wakes me up around seven am and I imagine a platter of sour cream donuts, unsure how such a simple scene feels impossibly far away.