So, in true one thing after another fashion… I’m now working 60+ hours a week. My brain won’t stop thinking about new story ideas… UNTIL I HAVE TIME TO SIT DOWN AND WRITE.
I also realize again just how awful I am at being social on the internet. Because on one hand I just want to share my writing and I want people to love it, but on the other hand, I’m still terrified someone will steal it. I don’t know why I’m so paranoid, there’s so many fun works floating out there from other amateur writers. I’m sure it’s just my brain being against me.
Also, I’ve been really sad lately because I love Webtoons and I think I could move my stories into Webtoons, but I have no artistic talent or no any artists interest in that medium.
Blech. It’ll be fine. I’m sure.
Bad News: I have 1 brain cell and it’s too exhausted to help me with any kind of story development.
Good News: An adrenaline rush gave me enough of a spark to tack on some cutesy stuff to an already cutesy section.
Bad News: I love smut and IT’S SO HARD thatswhatshesaid not to devolve “Good Enough” into that. I go back and forth because why can’t a bit of smut be okay? People still love Game of Thrones. But then I worry that it’ll be disregarded as a trashy romance novel. But also, I love trashy romance novels and my fanfiction is basically just trashy romance scenes and I love writing them as much as I do reading them so what’s the problem if I enjoy it? Then I think But it won’t be marketable. And then I think 50 Shades of Grey and then I think who the f*** is going to publish me anyway?
So if you couldn’t tell, I’m not super consistent with my updates.
I’ve been extra tired lately. The loss of my grandmother hits me in unexpected waves and I feel a constant looming sadness. Guilt comes to me at random as well. I’m not the best at dealing with trauma. I don’t know how to process it.
Not an excuse, but a reality. I still want to write. I’m continue soon. But I just wanted to vent into the void.
Does time actually heal you? Or do you just get use to the circumstance?
There’s a foot of snow on the ground, it’s 30°, but I’m feeling warm inside today.
I keep trying to stave off the “oh god, what’s going to go wrong” thoughts. Doing ok with that so far.
Thinking more and more about how to comfortably share my favorite wip without giving everything away at once. I picked up some ideas from other new authors, so I may just start sharing scene peeks and character info. More on that later. Back to work.
I’m showering once a week. I barely clean. I haven’t brushed my hair in two days. I haven’t worked on any projects in 2 weeks. I feel… sad… all the time. Even when I laugh in crying at the same time. I have no control.
There’s history of mental illness in my family, mania, depression, bipolar. My mom says she thinks I have depression that she knows when I’m feeling low and when I’m feeling normal.
I tell her I’m fine. And then I don’t seek out the professional help like I tell her I’ll do.
Why? Because I don’t feel justified in having these feelings. It’s like a weird middle ground where I’m self aware that this is not normal behavior, the lethargy, the lack of self-care, the constant mood swings and I know which professionals to seek, I know the costs involved. But I won’t make the necessary appointment.
There’s more here that maybe I haven’t self-discovered. But I just needed to vent into the void that is the internet for a moment.
I’ll be fine. I just need another few days.