Depression

So…. Depression is a difficult thing. It robs you of so much. My second book has been so close for so long, but I just keep stalling. I have so many ideas and things I want to do, but every time I put my fingers to my keyboard to do that thing I like to do more than anything else in the world, that little voice starts to chirp up. It won’t be good enough. No one is going to like it. Worse, no one is going to read it. And if they do, they aren’t going to say anything. Your words are going to echo off into the void for no one to hear. I know my words aren’t special, but they are mine, and I value them. I’m trying very hard to push away that dark cancerous cloud that’s eating away at those words before I even get a chance to say them.