Tag Archives: depression

Happiness in the small things.

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The words came out this week and I made decisions on things I should’ve dealt with, but it was the small things that brought me peace.

I was able to pay attention to my writing yesterday. I noticed the small words, the good sentences, and how the words flowed well.

Everything came together. My mind felt more clear than it has in a few weeks, not sure why.

I took my time. Finding the correct words. Resulting in great flow and better form.

These little things gave me confidence. It’s been lacking, you may have noticed that. I feel better about my writing. It’s getting better.

I have a better plan.

I knew what I wanted to do but after talking to my wife I set a blueprint.

I’ve laid it out and the edges are brushing up against what I’m doing next year. But it’s all good.

It’s about finding happiness in the little things and I’m doing that.

When working through it isn’t enough.

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If you’ve read the last few posts you know last week was a low point.

I had too much to drink one night which spiraled until I found myself unable to write.

I didn’t work through it, because you don’t work through depression. It’s a battle that will never be won. It comes back again and again.

With last week I took a step back at what I was doing in my life in writing and my focus was off.

I hadn’t decided what to improve.

I knew there were things in my writing but I didn’t sit down and go through them.

Last week I started reading the Harry Bosch books by Michael Connelly. I read books 1-5 and the first book in the Renee Ballard series.

Connelly makes you like his main characters. They have flaws but they’re valid flaws for who they are. These types of characters are what I needed to focus on, which I why I read so many of them.

I’m taking a break from Hieronymus for a little while. I love Bosch but reading that fast made my head spin.

It’s the characters that make the book interesting, not the story or plot. It’s taken me too long to understand that.

It’s the characters stupid.

Catching the failure bug

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The problem of being an unpublished writer it there isn’t a metric of comparison. I can’t compare myself to my writing idols, they have something I don’t.

This weekend, after I reconciled with myself about my actions, I thought about my work ethic.

Have I been working hard enough to get published? Am I focusing properly? Is there something more I could be doing?

I realized there are a few things I’m not doing and some I’m not doing enough of. There are streams of sunlight at the end of each storm, but we tend to think of the storm, what it did, how it wrecked us, but we don’t think about the clean up. We’re too focused on the storm.

The storm struck me this past weekend. It made me question my writing, it made me question myself.

For me and my struggles with depression, this is a dangerous road to travel. Much like sandbags along a river, I have to set up markers and ways to stop the progress of doubt and feelings the stop or hinder me.

These markers usually work, but this one, it’s taking things away from me.

I’m working to get through it. I stare at the keys when I’m writing and wonder if I should keep going. I get words, but are they good enough?

I feel my writing is good. I’ve improved greatly over the last eighteen months. But the doubt crept in. The sandbags filled with water and the dam broke.

Life tosses us through the storm, the sandbags break, the water spills over the dam, but we keep going because that’s who we are and that’s what we do.

But sometimes, the dam breaking hurts. It causes us to question where we’re going.

I’m struggling a bit this week. It’s been a while since I have, but putting it on the page for the world to see and for the world to know helps me get through it.

When people you don’t know support you…

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During my bartending event on Wednesday night I had someone I’d only met tell me, “Keep going with that writing and stay focused on it.”

I don’t get that kind of support from family and here was this guy, I’d only met an hour ago, telling me this.

There are people in this world who get it. They understand what you’re trying to do, and why.

Sometimes they are few and far between but they are there.

Now that we’re at The halfway point of the year I can look back and say I’ve done some great things to improve my self and my writing.

The former is supposed to spelled that way.

I have worked on avoiding anger, people who disrupt my work, and those who see what I’m doing as a dream that will never happen.

I work hard on writing, my self, and who I want to be.

This man saw that and I thanked him for it.

Have a great weekend, I’ll be spending it watching my amazing niece get married.

Keep going, you’ll get there.

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When my brother passed away I thought about all the times I didn’t talk to him and when I could’ve stopped to see him and didn’t.

After a couple of weeks I realized my brother wouldn’t want me to think about that.

He’d want me to think about the time we did things together. The weekend I spent at his house. Our times wrestling in the living room and how we could laugh at what an asshole I was as a teenager.

He’s been gone for a year and a half and though I’ll never get over him being gone I’ve used that year and half to motivate myself and focus on my writing.

One of the last interactions I had with my brother was on social media and it was when I was working on a project.

He told me keep going, you’ll get there.

For the last year and half those words have pushed me to work and get there.

I’m close to finishing my ninth book and I’ll be submitting queries for another next week. One book is in the hands of my writing group and I’m editing that as they go through it.

I’ve struggled to get through days thinking about him then I go back to his words.

I’ll keep going and I’ll get there.