I hate being depressed. I hate feeling like I’m wading through treacle with a lead weight on my back just to get the normal tasks completed but the thing that gets stuck in my craw the most is those fleeting moments where everything is okay and I’m happy and productive and not mentally obsessing, beating myself up or pretending I’m alright is that they are just that, fleeting.
If I’m very honest the depression makes me want to give up writing because it hangs over me like a heavy weight, I feel guilty when I’m not writing and am unmotivated and I feel like nothing I write is good enough when I do churn stuff out. It makes me want to stop trying to get the book published because the first book has been such a struggle, such an effort to get any of it written or edited that I can’t imagine ever actually finishing a second book.
It just feels like it would be much easier to put my manuscript on the shelf to gather dust and become a ‘what might have been’ story to tell the grandchildren.