I did a little bit of writing last night; I find that it is easier to write when I am going through some sort of emotional turmoil. I did some writing on my series. I am doing my best to push on through.
Lately I have been feeling so depressed. All I see is the negativity in my life. I don’t even want to get out of bed. Feels like I am failing at everything. I feel like I am fighting with the devil, and he is mocking me. I have been feeling so low, I know I cannot stay like this. All I can do is surround myself in prayer. I have to keep pushing forward.
I feel like a complete failure, because I have done nothing meaningful in my life. I write books that nobody reads, so what is the point in doing that. Okay writing may not be my thing anymore, but what is my thing?
This pain I got in the middle of my chest is making me feel so empty I pray to the highest power to send me healing energy. Please reconnect my energy to the highest power.
I’ve been so depressed by the circumstances of my life. I don’t know what to do anymore. I feel so disconnected from my faith.
I don’t write anymore. I’m feeling like I’m having an outer body experience.
I think I can finally put a finger to I haven’t been writing lately. I’ve been feeling kind of blah lately. I’m not sad, but I’m not happy either. It is much easier when I am passionate about something; that where my inspiration comes from. Lately I just feel so uninspired. When I do get ideas, I don’t write them down like I should.
I don’t know why, but lately I just don’t have the energy to write things. I get these fragments of ideas, but nothing concrete. The fact is I’ve always had an on-again off-again relationship with writing. I hope this doubt doesn’t last. Maybe me and writing to get divorced. I hope I get out of this funk.
19 years ago my brother John committed suicide. Sometimes I wonder if he would have realized the impact his death would have on our family, would he have gone through with it. It has been 19 years and it still feels like yesterday. I remember the next day my mind was still expecting him to walk up that ramp and I would run to the door. No matter how late John came in the door at night he would always wake me up to give me a big hug. Before you consider taking your own life, think about how that would make your family feel.
Should I post my poetry?