Suffering from it quite badly at the moment. Between physical and mental health – which are always a factor, obviously – and too much exposure to other so-called “humans” on the internet, I’m left feeling paranoid and paralyzed, unable to fill the white space because it feels like anything I type is going to be considered “problematic.”
Part of me is apathetic. Another part of me is chasing itself in circles trying to decide how to appease all potential readers and avoid being punished for trying to tell a story. Neither is capable of putting worthwhile words on the paper. A third part is digging its nails into its arms and ripping little bits of flesh off due to the anxiety and rage inspired by the other two and the social climate that inspired them.
Hopefully the mental storm passes soon. I have shit to do, and I don’t want to leave Ms. Crowe and Dr. Gale staring awkwardly at one another, picking nits and tapping their feet, while they wait for their god to return from his crisis of conscience and resume having the hubris to write about female characters despite being a cishet white male.
Hope everyone else’s weekend is going well. Until next time, folks.
Insomniac Nightmares 
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