I've been avoiding trying to write for awhile now, after someone mentioned that I focus too much on singular events to create many stories. But perhaps I have something of a cure, so to speak.
Earlier this evening I made a small sacrifice that made me feel much better. I came home depressed and feeling helpless, worthless. Not too uncommon. The rage that held my voice was a new twist, but I made myself release that in a non-violent way while helping a few friends.
One of them picked up on my mood and offered to sing me to sleep, or stay up with me until I could lay down and relax. I told him I would try if he did. And I did. It made me feel a little less worthless in doing so, like maybe I helped him by not keeping him up late before work.
I couldn't lose my friends. Any of them. They mean too much to me even if we don't live near one another.
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