I am dying to desire to write again. I have tons going on in my life. I still have naughty stories and fantasies hiding in my twisted mind. I even have extra time suddenly available to me. BUT, it’s just not there!
Since I began taking medication for my depression, I have found the movies that used to play in my head have become slow and foggy. They still play, but I just can’t quite see them clearly anymore. I understand this is partially due to the fact that I am no longer spinning out of control. That is a good thing, but part of me misses the flooding of inspiration.
I LOVE feeling healthy. My relationships with everyone, except my mother, have greatly improved. My children and I are now closer than we have ever been. Professor and I are stronger than I ever imagined possible. Friendships are strong, loving and feeding my soul. We all seem to have a much better understanding of how we have affected each other. Clear and open communication has been key.
I know it is selfish to want it all, but I still do. I want to be healthy, happy and content. I also want to have the feeling of euphoria when my fingers flew and produced something spectacular that I almost had no control over. Guess I’ll just have to keep trying.
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