At this point, I’m almost certain my medication is interfering with my ability to write the way I used to. It’s altered my obsessive traits from the mental to the physical.

I mean, I made three blankets, two cardigans, and a hat in a month (crochet). I bought a piano to play but I can’t… it’s apparently along the same synapses as writing but I was so close to taking off with that. Now I’m cross-stitching.

But I can’t…

I just can’t.

I have at least three more months of meds. At that point my doctor wants to review whether I should go back on them. I’m going to ask to be weaned off and see if I can function better then.

Until then, I need to focus on putting myself back together enough that when I’m off the meds I can… do all the things while doing writing. I want, so badly, to publish twelve books this year but my mental health was failing when I walked into the doctor’s office which is how it came out, how I ended up on the medication.

So I need to put myself back together after decades of being shattered. And it’s killing me a little bit because not being able to write makes me want to crawl into bed and not get up again, but at the same time I know this is temporary. I remember what it was like before and I don’t want that but I also don’t want this.

I suppose that means in the usual fashion I’m going to burn the world to the ground and fix this all for myself.

I want a world where I write, but I also want a world where my PTSD and panic disorder and general and social anxiety don’t eat away at me. I know I’m a strong, extroverted personality that will make friends and change what’s broken in my environment and life. I’m a leader and creative and can be explosive when pushed too far. But my mental health problems have reduced me to a basement gremlin growling at sunlight and hiding under blankets.

So… over the next three months things may seem strange. I may not edit Contract Sealed and Contract Delivered, but that’s not because I don’t want to. I might get wrapped up in Awakened or in a new series I’m working on: Coventry.

Or I might just update The Others randomly.

I just want you to know that the weirdness isn’t because I don’t want to finish these projects. It’s not because I don’t want to write Mars Red, because that would be amazing for me…

It’s because I have three months to piece myself back together enough that when I’m off the medication I can still stand toe-to-toe with an idiot three times my size, carrying an axe, and I can still meet the eyes of my co-workers… and maybe carry on a conversation.

In the meantime…

Re-read your favourites, drop me a line, or, if you really want to help me out, leave a review on Amazon, tell your friends, or talk to your local bookstore about carrying my books.

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