Struggling with depression sucks.

  Dear Reader,

I've not been sleeping well over the last while. My doctor adjusted my medication but it doesn't seem to be helping as much as I thought it would be. My mood is dropping and I find myself struggling with thoughts like I should give up on my blogs and all of my writing projects because depression lies to me and tells me that it is all going nowhere fast.

My anxiety has been rather high which leads to me over thinking the prospect of writing anything at all. It's at a point that even writing in my daily journal about the random stuff the kids do and what happens in the neighborhood provokes a mini-panic attack. Fortunately, I will be talking with my doctor next week and figuring out the next step to addressing this problem. 

I feel really guilty that I haven't been writing here or on my other blogs. I sit down to write and I get so full of anxiety and fear that the words just go out of my head. Right now, I'm half tempted to delete this whole thing because "no one wants to listen to you whine." My big Camp NaNoWriMo project only got four pages done through out the entire month. That was supposed to be the Lokean devotional project. I sit down to work on it and I get afraid that I'm going to write everything wrong and that some one is going to lob a brick through my window for daring to go so far as to write about this.

It's a combination of C-PTSD from how I was raised and my performance anxiety colliding with each other and leaving me virtually paralyzed on how to act. I am not going to give up on these things. I'm struggling and my brain is like jello right now. I've got about as much focus as a goldfish. All I want to do is sleep, in part because I'm not sleeping well and in part because I am depressed again.

It is hard to do things when your disability smacks you in the face with a halibut. That, however, is where I'm at right now. Hopefully, after a little bit, I'll be doing better and back to daily writing.

A confession.

  Dear Reader,

I must make a confession of sorts. I have not been writing on any platform in quite some time because I have been terrified that what I write will cause harm. I have been terrified that what I write will bring suffering to my loved ones. I have been terrified that what I write will be the cause of great sorrow.

These terrors are in part the fruit of evil that was done to me as a young child. The people who raised me told me that if I wrote about things they disapproved of people would come to burn our house down or kill us. They told me that if I wrote about topics that they disapproved of my entire family would suffer because of it. They told me that if I gave voice to anything that wasn't 'normal' that I would be ostracized and other people would do things to harm me. These lies were repeated so often that they became the backdrop to my early efforts to write.

I have walked away from these people. I have cut pretty much all ties to them. Due to the nature of the psychological trauma that I experienced with them, however, I have these anxieties and terror that seize me when my mood is low. I have bipolar II and I regularly experience low moods because of it. This acts as a trigger for the emotional flashbacks that have been making writing and any form of creative expression awfully hard over the last few months.

I desperately want to write. I desperately want to finish the book I started a few weeks ago. I desperately feel the need to express myself. At the same time, terror stops me. The pressure within is miserable. I ask that you forgive my silence. I am trying to over come this. I will not be abandoning my blogs. But things are very difficult right now because of my disability and life being complicated.

Struggling with writer's block.

 Dear Reader,

Life got complicated recently. I've been trying to sort it out. In the process of all this, I have come down with a bit of writer's block. I'm working to try to resolve it. I hope to have real content for you soon.