Tag Archives: depression

Finding hope, and the motivation to write…

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I missed posting on Wednesday. There were issues and I had things to deal with.

Life comes at us hard when we’re not expecting it. It will punish us. Make us feel like we’re worthless and keep kicking until we can’t breath.

This punishment can be brought on by our actions, our inactions, or by not paying attention to our own thoughts.

Our own thoughts will beat us worse than 3 rounds in the octagon. It will take what we believe tear it apart and leave us asking how it happened.

Getting through that pain is the hardest thing we will do in our lives.

I’ve dealt with the loss of my brother, my father-in-law, who I felt close to, and the pain my mind inflicted on my felt worse.

Your mind will torture you, call you names, and when you think it’s done, it’s back for another helping of tossing you bullshit to doubt yourself.

That doubt will sink your dreams, your marriage, and any friendships you’ve created.

The only way through is to have a belief in your goals stronger than the bullshit in your head.

That belief will get you past the loss of anything. It will guide you in the darkest night and be the light to lead you.

This week has been one of reevaluation, digging in when I didn’t think I could go deeper, and trusting the process when I wanted to quit.

I really thought about giving up on writing this week. I hate to struggle and I feel like I’m struggling, not with writing but with life. I know it will get better but right now, staring at nearly nine unpublished books, it’s hard to be confident.

I’ll be pushing harder to get things published this summer and I’ll keep you posted but damn, I’m struggling to keep writing and it has nothing to do with the words.

I’m averaging 1500 words a day, reaching g 2700 words or more on some day.

Have to keep going.

Realizing when to give up on a story.

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I hate giving up on a book. I really, really hate it!

I often wonder if I’ve hit a wall? Did I write something that screwed up the story? Did I do something to the characters that doesn’t work?

That’s when I go back and read what I’ve written, trying to find breadcrumbs leading me to the problems.

Sometimes there are no problems and the story ran its course or my brain doesn’t know where the hell to go.

This week the former happened.

The story I’m 22k into stopped. I don’t know why it stopped. I read through the previous sections looking for those breadcrumbs. They were nowhere.

Then I got a little depressed.

I haven’t written a novel yet this year and I keep thinking something is wrong with me or my brain because of it. I mean my creative brain not the literal grey matter.

I got a the place I don’t like being at.

Do I continue with this story, focus on improving parts of my writing by writing short stories or do I try my hand at another long form story?

So I did something I rarely do; I let my wife read a couple of sections.

I only do this on the rarest of stories and only if I really want the story to succeed.

Which I truly want with this story.

She gave me ideas on what to change, things to add and said she thought I had some good writing, which she doesn’t say often. But when she does, it makes me feel better about the story.

So after getting a little depressed I’m continuing with the project.

Editing break

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I’ve been thinking about taking a break for a while.

Now that I’m staring at a self-imposed deadline for the current novel, I realized in order to get it where it needs to be, I have to focus on one thing.

This will be my last post for a while.

I plan on taking at least two months to get the novel where I want it, though it may take longer.

If something amazing happens, I’ll drop in, but after this post, I’ll be working to finish the horror novel I wrote in August.

I hope you all have a pleasant and productive spring and early summer and hopefully I’ll see you in the summer.

Sick, depression, and lack of focus.

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The story I’d been writing took a turn and I no longer feel I can finish it.

It may have to do with the cold I’ve been fighting for the last week.

It may also have to do with a bit of depression I’ve been dealing with because of not being able to write this story.

It took a turn sometime last week in a direction I don’t like and I thought I’d let it go, however, since then it’s become a boondoggle.

The boondoggle was exasperated when I started watching A Discovery of Witches this past week. It’s too much like my story and may toss it in the bin because of that.

Anyway, happy writing.

A ledge, a death, and finding myself.

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:TRIGGER WARNING: Talk of suicide.

Five years ago I stood on a ledge. I mean this literally.

I was in the parking garage of the hotel and casino I worked at in Las Vegas. It was the end of my shift and I didn’t want to live anymore.

Over the previous six months, my grandfather passed away, I stopped considering my biological father as my dad, and I contracted shingles.

All of this is related to why I stood on that ledge.

I remember standing, the dry Vegas air blowing through my clothes, and not caring what anyone would think about me not being here.

I was mostly just tired. I felt like I caused a lot of pain and I was tired of hurting.

Something happened that day that was nearly the deciding factor for my life. A co-worker told me, “No one cares what happens to you. No one wants to listen to you talk about your writing anymore.”

Those words, completely full of venom and hate, led me to standing on the ledge.

I stared down at the pavement. Feeling the wind brush back my hair and rippled my clothes. Then, I don’t know why, but I stepped down and called my wife. I don’t have an explanation as to why I stepped down.

I explained to my wife what happened.

No one, not even her knew how bad my depression was. I didn’t want anyone to know that I’d lost it. I’m not sure if its a guy thing, though I’ve come to believe it had something to do with it.

I talked to her through my Bluetooth on the way home. She had no idea. I know no one I worked with did.

Today, I turned 43. Life got better after we left Las Vegas almost four years ago. I see my kids more, love my wife more, and take care of myself. I enjoy life.

One of the reasons we left was the toxicity of casino work. When we left, I was getting migraines 2-3 times a week. Since we left, I’ve had eight of them.

One of my goals after moving was to write fiction daily. I do that now. I’ve written eight books and I’m planning on publishing a book this summer on Amazon.

If you have thoughts of suicide, please get help. Please tell someone and don’t let some asshole you work with drive you to end things.

I continue to suffer from depression, but after trying Transcendental Meditation after my breakdown, because that’s what it was.

TM has become a daily practice for my wife and I. It changed my life, as well as saving it.