Oh hey there.

This break in posting hasn’t been as long as previous lapses so maybe I get some sort of credit for that. I have a handful of half-finished blog posts scattered around on this PC, so you’ll have to trust me that the break hasn’t been entirely through negligence.

The truth is that I’ve been too shagged out and, bottom line, ashamed to post anything.

This rather defeats the grand statement of intent I made when I posted back in October. I resolved to keep updating with snapshots of how I was doing with my writing, what sort of obstacles I was dealing with, how – if – I was overcoming them. And all that against a backdrop of delicious, once-in-a-lifetime freedom from a 9-to-5 for three months.

Obviously that didn’t happen.

Instead, a week into my grand writing experiment I ended up in A&E. I mentioned this in the last post I shared so I shan’t re-tread old ground. TL;DR: panic attack outta nowhere.

The tinnitus I mentioned in that last post persisted. It’s still with me now, in fact.

After multiple doctors’ appointments (one good, one fine, and one GP who essentially told me to stop wasting his time) plus a hearing test and session with a specialist, I now have a diagnosis of chronic Temporomandibular disorder (TMD).  It’s common, benign, is an escalation of something I’ve had since childhood, and while not treatable in a “take these for a few weeks and you’ll be right as rain” sort of way, is entirely manageable.

It goes a long way towards explaining my frequent headaches, migraines, and shitty sleep quality (and therefore fatigue) amongst many other things. So that’s nice.

Next on that particular to-do list is a follow up appointment with my GP to talk meds and exercises, and an appointment with my dentist to get something to stop myself from grinding my teeth to stumps.

So what does all this have to do with writing?

When the sudden escalation/development of TMD is combined with the surprise!panic attack at the start of my three month no-work-hiatus, a picture emerges of how hard I’ve been trying to wrestle my stupid fucking brain to concentrate and produce anything.

I managed to make myself ill trying to write and got so frustrated I couldn’t realise anything that I manifested a whole new physiological reaction.

Turns out I can’t punish myself to productivity.

I’ve doubtless touched on suspicions that I have ADD/ADHD in previous posts. I don’t know if it’s that which has caused the massive non-productivity block in my brain, or if it’s one of the other diagnosed bags I lug around with me. Either which way, I am exhausted. I am exhausted by myself and my inability to realise things. I am beyond tired by how the wires in my head are plugged in so haphazardly that the smallest whiff of something positive and exciting is transformed into gut-lurching, migraine-inducing anxiety.

A few other things have happened this year so far, but they’re more personal and will require more context so I won’t reduce them to a footnote.

I just wanted to share that I haven’t given up on the writing. I also have another creative project in the pipeline which I’m working on with my long-suffering fiancé. Both of these – for the sake of my mental and, as it turns out, physical health – I’m not pushing too hard. He’s the main mover for the joint project at the moment so there isn’t too much I need to beat myself up over.

The writing will have to wait for a time when I won’t feel like I’m going to do myself a mischief. I’ll have to wait for the tides of my stupid brain to move the right way so I can take advantage. Either that or I finally submit this fully completed self-assessment ADD/ADHD form I’ve had in my handbag for two months.

I keep forgetting about it, okay?