I think I’m slightly depressed right now. Mostly from loneliness because of the brief separation from my husband. Yeah, a little pathetic, I know, but if you haven’t been apart for a while and you’ve been kind of stuck like glue you sort of feel it, you know? (I was away from him in May while visiting my family, but I had my family with me then, and not just me by myself in an empty house for two weeks). Also I feel a little hopeless about my novel. It seems like I never could progress further than one chapter a week at best, and there were like 10 chapters left when I started earlier this year and now there’re still 10 more chapter left because the book kept getting longer. I mean I’m not artificially lengthening my chapters or anything, it’s just that there’re more and more things to add as I get to know the plot better, the characters motivation better, you know, standard novel draft stuff. It makes me sad that I can never finish anything, it seems like. What am I working so hard for? It’ll never amount to anything. The sheer mountain of work is burying me even thinking about it. So why even try?
I should just suck it up and work regardless. That is the goal – work everyday regardless. But it is so goddamn hard. Just like working out and keep at it, knowing you may never see a result, not even years from now (there’s no guarantee you’ll lose weight, or lose as much as you hoped, even with regular exercising). I did well last week, kinda, but am losing steam this week. I’m not sure what I should be doing right now. I know I’ve been ridiculously stressed because I tend to grind my teeth at night when I’m stressed, and for the past week my jaw ached in the mornings because I’ve been chomping so hard. (It got a little better this week, but I can still feel it). I mean eventually you just suck it up and move on, but I’m not there yet. I have to start moving on, you know? I wanted to write today but couldn’t bring myself to open a word document. I’m not sure how I’ll move through this yet.