Lately I have found myself in a bit of a funk. I hesitate to use the word depression, because it is a big, heavy, loaded word. But if I am honest that is more than likely the correct word. This isn’t a new place for me, I have been here before. This is the first time I have been here while actively writing.
Writing has filled a hole in me. It is a passion, a need, a love. It is part of my soul. When writing my world makes sense. A good writing session can make a bad day turn great and lift me up inside.
So it’s especially odd to be in a funk right now. I have finished a good round of editing on Choice and Consequence, which should have me singing. Instead I feel drowned.
The only answer I have for my current emotional struggle is the juggle. The juggle of having my attention pulled toward several different projects at once. As I write and edit I am also marketing and querying. I have several beta reads in the works for other writers and try to keep in touch with the world at large. The funk seems to be my minds way of telling me it’s too much.
So I stepped back. Revised plans. Buried myself in a fun read. Spent time with the family.
And the funk lingers. I know it’s related to my passion, my writing. I force myself through, not letting it get the best of me. And in small moments the funk goes away while working.
But it comes back. It hovers. Is it self-doubt? Is it the overwhelming juggle? Is it clinical? All hard to answer.
I will keep moving forward, keep my passion growing. Keep searching for the spark that rids the cloud. Answers may come, or they may not. Life doesn’t have the same tidy endings that my novels do.
If I get quiet here, you’ll know why.