It’s literally been more than a year since I last posted. And, boy, what a year it’s been.
So far 2015 is chalking up to be my worst year ever, in fact, I think it already has that title, but there’s room for it to go either way. My husband is officially jobless at the end of day tomorrow, and with nothing new secured yet, there’s a possibility things could get much, much worse.
Since April I’ve lost my creative mojo. I’ve not written anything, and I’m feeling as far from being a writer as those normal non-writerly people must feel–except I still hang out with writers, and people ask me what I’m working on, and my current response is, “a baby blanket,” because I’m doing a huge favour for a friend (and that’s crochet, not writing, in case you were wondering how you write a baby blanket).
What happened in April to trigger this. Well, that’s the créme de la créme of my shit year. I ended up in hospital because my stupid brain decided reality wasn’t good enough for it, and it went walk about in insanity for a few weeks. An event that has totally fractured my belief in myself and trust in my brain, and even though everyone else is getting on with their lives as if it was all a bad dream, I’m still reeling from what happened.
How’s your year going?