Escape


I’ve finished reading another good book. I wish I could say that I finished “writing” another good book, but I never seem to finish what I’ve started. I’m all fired up when I start, then I just stop hoping to find a solution to the abyss I’ve stumbled into. My plot took a turn that led to too many possibilities…no focus. Go figure.

Recently, I was thinking of picking back up the novel I stopped writing. I mentioned it to my mom, but she actually looked scared. She responded that I shouldn’t because I always start writing when I’m depressed which leads me into a manic episode.  (—always? I think that’s extreme.)

I responded that the mood causes me to want to write not the writing causing the mood but I’m probably wrong. As I think about it, I see that right now I am pretty depressed…most definently on Friday. It is very situational for me right now, so it’s understandable. Here are some reasons why:

  1. Learned that my cat of 18 years has cancer and she has a month before the vet wants to put her down.
  2. My ankle pain is back.
  3. We are having family issues at work (family owned).
  4. My husband and I were on a 2 week vacation and still no sex.
  5. One of my email accounts was hacked and sent a virus link to everyone in my address book.
  6. Two computers at work crashed with that virus.
  7. I’m sure there’s more, but I don’t want to think about it.

Ugh! I can’t win. I know my life could be worse, but I’m losing my sense of hope for the future that always bounced me back out of this depression.

If I get too deep, which I was pretty bad on Friday, my mood has a tendency to fight hard to put me into a manic episode.

Writing now has helped me realize something, my mood doesn’t feel as desolate as it did Friday. I read an entire novel since then and I really want to write. I think my mood has shifted into battle mode. Depression doesn’t set in too long with me before I feel anxiety and nervous energy taking its place. Next, I find that shimmer of hope, which seems to always be connected to my writing, and BAM…

Well, at least I’m aware of the situation. Should I avoid writing then or should I embrace it? My writing is always at its best when facing this type of pressure. Right now, I could use an escape from reality.

 

 

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