The interesting part of the January blogging challenge is that it expanded my writing to slightly beyond diarist. There was a quantity of hopefully widely-applicable navel-gazing, to be sure, but less current information was shared than is my usual trend. This means that up until now, I haven’t shared that I’ve been struggling with the effects of serotonin syndrome. It’s not so severe that I’m … Continue reading A tree is not a book by Susan Cooper.
The bloganuary post prompts are interesting: they’re designed, in part, to elicit a positive response. Take prompt eight, “what do you like most about your writing.” It’s phrased in the affirmative. You’re supposed to give yourself props. My personal go-to of being negative and critical makes one seem small-minded and surly. (I feel I should apologize for any imperfections (I’m regularly perfect, of course): this … Continue reading I’m hilarious: what I like about my writing.
The week between Christmas and New Year’s is a hard one. Work sucks, there’s the inevitable post-celebration letdown, and the family and friend lovefest is likely starting to wear. Unless you’re a sitcom family – they do seasonal well. My ambivalence is being made worse by the cold front that’s descended: it’s hard to sort my feelings when I’m freezing. Minus twenty-six Celsius (minus fifteen … Continue reading The dog days of December.
When one considers that I’ve struggled with diagnosed major depressive disorder since nineteen, my consistent failure to notice when I’m once again fighting the black dog seems surprising. Then again, even though I know in my bones that depression often has little to do with being overtly sad when I’m not sad, I can misdiagnose the issue. Identifying that you have a problem when you … Continue reading My depression is unproductive, not apathetic.
