There was a traumatic even, and I needed space to recover.
I used that space to journal, to take photographs, and spend lots and lots of time in bed. I also saw my wonderful doctor who got me on meds that are still helping me. But, there sidefects are almost more then I can bear to deal with. The most painfull one? I can’t do creative writing. I can still do the “true” writing, but don’t ask me to write a story, or to even be able to come up with a story. I just can’t do it. I know me, and I know my meds. It’s the meds. this happens every time I go on the newsiest one that I’m on.
I will be coninueing from where I am now, not where I left off the blog. Somethings should only be left to me, for me.