Eat Ramen, Fuck Bitches.

Well, the novel is finally fucking finished. I will be spending the next few months on edits and re-edits, but

in the meantime, I will also be researching novel #2 and working on a webcomic.

I haven't been around much because I found myself in a pit of depression that I had no means to pull

myself out of. I still don't know what started it, but I am doing eveything that I can to keep it from

happening again.

So. In an IHOP, drinking black coffee and listening to Thriller. Like a fucking BOSS.

I learned a lesson about enthusiasm: it requires a plan to follow. That I have- well, I am working on the

plan. I just need to stick to it. First step is organization.

I posted earlier about the first step of my depression. When I feel myself going to a place that dark, I

can usually harness much of that for fuel and write my ass off. The problem, is that immediately after a

period of unabated creative productivity, I find myself wallowing in a pool of emotional filth. A well of pain

so deep that I would wish that I was numb. Just a non-stop cycle of zero self control followed by self-

pity, then disgust, then shame, then loathing, etcetera, etcetera, ad nausem, forever.

And the drinking. Good gods, the drinking...

I don't know what pulled me out this time, maybe I was finzally sick of a lack of control of my life. I don't

know, and it doesn't matter. I'm back, and I'm strong, and I'm finally going to be what I say.

With a bit more swagger, and a little less booze.

I Should be Better at This

You see, depression is a motherfucker. I don't mean having a bad day, or having a case of the Monday's. I mean waking up and immediately wishing that you hadn't. I mean going through a list of reasons that people should like you and coming up with nothing.

Don't get me wrong. Clinical depression is a boon at first. Well, creatively. It's much easier to write when I am winding down and not so elated. I am also a little more prone to get in touch with my more negative emotions, more open to exploring the more hurtful side of life.

Trouble is, if I can't pull myself out of it, then I continue to spiral downwards, which doesn't do me a single favor.

Now is one of those times, and getting out of bed gets harder and harder each time, I just wish that there were fewer people that I am dragging down with me. Maybe in a couple of weeks, it'll all come back together

See you on the other side, yeah?