I hate deadlines, but I clearly work better under some pressure. I was even over an hour early on my deadline today- I wonder if my editor will notice. I missed it entirely last time- the panic attacks were crippling and my brain stopped working effectively. Rather than turn in something trite and stupid, I chose to not write anything. I know myself well enough, know how incoherent I get after a few days of severe panic attacks and deep depression. Communication of any sort becomes challenging, and miscommunication is a huge hazard at that point.
Now that I have my latest, fairly normal story turned in, I have three days wide open to pack and move. Time to get baked, crank up the caffeine levels, and make my own magic happen. Times like this, I just have to stay as occupied as possible, or the waves of sadness and despair become life-threatening. All these years of work, and it’s much better, but it still gets debilitating if I don’t work on it every damn day. Words can’t describe how much it hurts, how I sometimes wish with every molecule of my being for it to just go away and let me try and live some semblance of a normal life. I guess that would be boring though, and who has a normal life anyway?
Love to all
Ain’t No Cure For Love- Leonard Cohen (I love him sooooooo much, that voice! those suits! Why don’t they make men like that anymore???)
Magic- The Cars
Swept Away- Diana Ross
Dreamin’ Out Loud- Trace Adkins
Every Light In The House Is On- Trace Adkins
The Brandenburg Concertos- all of them
The Radio- Vince Gill
Move Any Mountain- The Shamen
Wave On Wave- Pat Green