I hate not being able to write.

Writing is one of the few things I think I am actually good at (and even then, my creative writing is eh, but it is cathartic) and so it frustrates me when I go on my laptop with the intention of writing something and then end up just staring at blank documents and mindlessly doing other stupid shit.

And like I have an outline for this next oneshot thing I want to write but I can't seem to get the words so I keep just adding to it/changing it and stuff.

Plus I sort of want to delve into writing a longfic thing again; I have an AU thing that sounds like it could be a lot of fun but I need to finish the multichap I haven't updated since April 2017 before I even think about diving into something new.

Like...I know fic writing can be silly but it is something I enjoy.  Plus there is an anxiety about me not fic writing - I am already convinced now that online friends are, well, temporary to put it nicely.  If I want to stay relevant I need to be writing constantly; not doing that means I'm fading into obscurity and shit.  People won't care unless I write things.

Maybe having that fear actually is harming my creative output? 


Also unrelated but I am very frustrated still with the way I look.  I know it is because of medication and I know I am being really shallow but it is annoying when I was working out and nothing was happening and I haven't been doing that (trainer is looking for a new lease somewhere) and so I feel like its been worse.  Doctor did say that maybe if I start to feel better we can lower my zoloft dosage (since that is the one that seems to cause easy weight gain/hard to lose) while I guess keeping my welbutrin the same or something.  Not sure.

I asked about bipolar disorder, since I started thinking that could be a thing given the high productive periods I get followed by extremely low episodes.  Doc said he didn't think it was that, but that we should keep it in mind and stuff. 

I know I'm so much better than I was a few years ago.  People have told me.  People were legitimately scared that someone would find me dead by my own hand.  It was a legitimate fear to have.  Now it sometimes feels like...I should not have those thoughts, since I'm better than I was.  And while they're not as loud and not as urgent, they are still there.  Once in a while I do fight them with a true honest desire to be happy and alive.  But other times...they just sit in the back of my mind, whispering and never truly disappearing.

And at times I just get tired.  Tired of constantly fighting this battle in my own head.  Like...I'm better and I have times where I feel uplifted but I still would not say I am happy.  Happiness in brief periods?  Sure.  Especially with my nieces, honestly.  I didn't think I could love two little humans as much as I love them. 

But happy in life?  No, I don't think I really am.  Still.   

My anxiety just tells me again and again that I will never be happy in life.  I will never find a job I truly love.  I have a weird relationship with sexuality and romantic love, so I'll likely be alone - which is something I am fine with, really (honestly I like my own space too much again now), but I fear others finding those things and leaving me behind as a result.  That's selfish, I know, but it has happened over and over and over again and so I go into a weird and sometimes inconsolable panic when I start to think history is repeating itself. 


I'm going to try and write these sorts of things here again.  I know I've said this multiple times, but...its good to talk about and on tumblr I sometimes feel I'm oversharing and/or I say less out of fear of someone's judgment.  Here I feel like I can kind of just let things out.  Even if it is only a few times a week or even a month, it is better than me just sort of mulling everything around in my head over and over again.