Been writing lately. Have made some progress on some stories. But I’m stuck on two. They feel like skeletons and I just haven’t put the meat on the bones yet. Decided to write blurbs and ideas as they come and stick them where appropriate. Nothing is flowing this summer. Sent off one story to two places. Want more to offer than what I’ve got before I approach an agent.

Mentally. I’m not sure where I stand. I’m functioning. But I keep saying things out loud to no one. Phrases like. “I hate myself”. “I wish I were dead.” And other negative thoughts that have squeezed their way out into the open.

The thoughts come from nowhere. No triggers except being tired of doing the same things every day. Things like pills, sleep, distractions. I have no real motivations. But I want to go swimming or rather aquacizing. But I can’t seem to get it together. We’ve finally got our summer, weather wise. I feel like doing NOTHING. I’m beginning to think this happens every year. I just don’t remember.

Went through a bout of depression, but headed it off before it got serious. Went to one social event, but I couldn’t get into the swing of strangers. I have the hardest time letting myself go in front of people. I just sat there and talked a bit. Semi danced a bit. As much as I could with these bad knees. And drank wine and tequila and one corona.

I fell backwards into friends car, not because I was drunk. But because my knees wouldn’t bend to save me when I leaned backwards. Don’t like things like that. I hate my life sometimes.

When your body wont cooperate. 

I have another function this weekend. I’m not nervous. I know what I have to do and what I’m going to wear etc. Just not going to drink. Can’t afford a cash bar.

I wish the writing came back. I might need to kick start it somehow. Hoping this helps. Random thoughts are easier than weaving a world.