So today I decided to start writing... not I did start writing a new book. I still have a few old ones to return to (and I will, I promise) but this one needs to be written now first.
Young Adult novel that draws heavily from my young adult self but is not autobiographical. Main character is much less angsty and neurotic than I was. But chances are good that people might recognize themselves or parts of themselves in this. And I need them to know that they are fiction.
This was not an issue with my 19th century romance novel. It was an issue with my Deeply Depressing Literary Fiction.
Regardless. I am going to write and see what comes out. Writing is good for me.
"In seventh grade my best friend told me she thought I’d been sent by the devil to test her faith. I found this problematic for several reasons. First off, I don’t believe in the devil. Or god for that matter, which I guess was the root of our theological crisis. Secondly, if I had been sent by the devil I was doing a terrible job at tempting people to betray their values. Or sin, or whatever. But really, it terrified me that this person who was closer to me than anyone else in my life might decide she could no longer risk being my friend. These were difficulties I had not been able to foresee when I came out as an atheist at age 12."
Had a wicked sore throat for a week or two. Then nearly complete exhaustion.
It reminded me of before I started working full time and my friend wondered if I would have the energy to work since I slept so much during the day.
I have just the energy for work. Plus I feed my hypomania on the energy from my students.
My last period class is full of enthusiastic new to country students. I max out on energy and excitement during their class and then crash when I get home.
I was really sad for no reason this week.The kind of sad where you question your worth as a living organism.
Didnt last long. Went back to just regular blah.
Bad physical health as a cover for bad mental health? One causing the other or making it worse?
i can’t see what I’m typing. This is no fun to write.
Stupid phone interface.
Quaker, teacher, parent,