I have come to realize that in comparison to others, my life is blessedly boring. Lately, minus some issues with learning to control/manage my GERD and IBS, I’ve been well. There were some flare-ups as dosages where changed and then ultimately changed back. The set backs did bring about minor bouts of depression. It is very frustrating and defeating to not feel well. Missing work, being home in bed, it takes its toll. However, over all my mental health has been on a pretty even keel.
I’ve not been dating so there is no drama in that area of my life. School has kept me busy but it’s a good busy that has led to many rewarding moments. All of this smooth sailing has not been conducive to my writing though.
Writing is often a way to purge the negative emotions, to channel the hurt or the rage. If everything is good- what does a writer then write about? Such is the conundrum. Now that I have an eight week break that gives me some time to refocus and make plans. One of my very dear friends is also a writer and she suggested we get together to encourage each other in our endeavors. It was a very productive meeting over mimosas. I have committed (to myself) to work more often on my blog and to also finish one of my fiction pieces that I started twelve years ago. For her, the primary focus will be getting her website up and running. Then she will tackle a couple of amazing fiction stories that are percolating in her brain.