I used to have hobbies. Perhaps too many of them, but I had them. I used to do them, had fun with them, enjoyed them.
And slowly but surely that stopped. At first I did it less and less. Maybe even didn’t do one or two of them alltogether anymore, to make space for the others. I tried to prioritise, do the ones that brought me most fun. I tried to fit it in, despite the fatigue and the illness and everything else, because I want to do it. I want to have something relaxing, something I enjoy, something just for me. But at some point, I had no more room left. No more energy. No more clarity.
I stopped drawing, chrocheting, photographing, hiking for fun.
Sometimes people comment on how I ‘quit doing’ it.
But I didn’t quit.
I bled out.