Somehow despite the best of intentions, I haven’t written since April. Apologies, but life as they say, got in the way and I’m still very much in the thick of it, dealing as best I can.
I ended April, true to my wordcount goals, whereas in May I only made 2,500ish words. June was worse. The simple fact being that depression and anxiety don’t go hand in hand with writing, at least when medicated. It’s still very much a work in progress but I’m happy to say I’m now writing again, and determined to make July’s goal.
June… well that was harder still, and I’ve yet to make mention of it at all really. The simple fact that on the 13th my mother in law lost her battle with cancer. To say it’s been hard, is an understatement. And no matter how good my intentions, going forward, using my own experience as a guide doesn’t seem in anyway helpful.
Therein lies the problem I suspect. In eighteen days, it will have been eight years since my own mother passed away, and I’m nowhere near done with the grieving process. Fact is you never truly get over the loss of a loved one. It fades, but there will always be a gaping hole in your chest where the person ought to be.