This is the first thing I’ve written for THE PIT in 5 months, 2 weeks and 4 days. 

It’s not for lack of trying. Huge chunks of my time have been spent compulsively opening and closing word documents and drafts like someone’s paying me to make myself miserable - and I am. Miserable that is. Because like heaps of other ‘creatives’ out there I have depression, and anxiety, and the pressure of writing feeds into those illnesses like nothing else. Perpetually forcing yourself to produce content is no way to live. Especially not when no one is ever going to see it: because it’s not perfect, and if it isn’t perfect then what’s the point? If nobody is going to read it, why write anything in the first place? And the longer you stagnate without anything going up the more dejected you feel, the less capable. 

Sitting back and watching other people do your job better is disheartening and it cultivates a habit out of bitterness and jealousy. It’s warped me to the point that reading about the things I love is no longer fun. Listening to new albums gives me panic attacks at the prospect of coming up with things to say about them, and when these other fantastic blogs upload their own thoughts I can no longer bear to look at it. At the risk of sounding dramatic, music journalism has become one of the biggest triggers I face.

But giving up is not an option. Writing has been a part of my life since primary school and this industry is so much a part of my foundations that I’m not sure who I’d be without it. 

All of this is to say that things around here are going to be a little different going forward. News posts are going to be dramatically reduced; articles, in general, will come slightly less frequently but hopefully at a much higher quality. I put my heart and soul into everything I write and I hope you enjoy reading it enough to stick with me. 

Here’s to moving onwards and upwards.