I just wrote a nine-page short story. Which kind of kicks ass. When I set my goals for why I wanted to get better, my reason for wanting to fix my brain is that I wanted to be able to WRITE. Not just blog posts, but short stories, finish my frickin' novel. Think about things in a longitudinal way.
Nobody can read this short story yet because it is in its infancy, but I am just happy to be dipping my feet into the writing world again.
I got a Master of Fine Arts in creative writing seven years ago. (I think.) At the time I had a novel that was a finalist for the outstanding work of fiction at my college. I can't remember what exactly the prize was called, but in the land of academia the work was well received.
However, in order to be commercially viable I needed to do some work. Which I did. For a while until I got stuck and then I had a third child and then my brain slowly went out of whack. First dipping deeper and deeper into Depression and then making the swings between Depression and hypomania more obvious.
Because those swings made it possible to identify my bipolarness and get me the proper treatment.
So if I can eventually get around to working on my novel again I will be Super Happy. And I surely have let it sit for long enough that I can come back to it with fresh eyes.
Grateful Crap: recreation brain work
took meds (150mg venlafaxine, 450mg bupropion, 100mg lamotrigine)
going to gym with friend
calling therapist now... just a sec... OK now I have appointments with Once and Future Psychologist (OFP) and my psychiatrist. Not until January 20something, but still it is on the books.
Quaker, teacher, parent,