What do you do when the urge to give in to depression is so strong? How do you get out of bed in the morning when thoughts of giving up overwhelm you? When the stories you write to amuse yourself as much as anyone else (and these days they seem only for yourself anyway) no longer scream out to be told, and seem like as much a chore as dragging your ass out of bed, how do you shake yourself out of that?
When your interior critic asks ‘Why bother?’ What do you answer?
Several months ago, I decided to come off of anti-depressants, and when I did, after I’d gone through the horrid withdrawal, I found a creative energy I hadn’t had in years. But now I’m starting to feel the way I did back when I first went on them. I am crashing, falling apart, crumbling into dust.
I’m writing this in an effort to just say something; anything — in the hope that it might spark my creative side to start running again.
God I hope something comes soon.