I think it's clear from this piece that I'm feeling a little old at the moment. Well not old per say, just worn out. I have so much on my mind currently that it's sapping me. And as much as I try not to let it get me down this is perhaps mission impossible. I have had a lot of trouble dumped in my lap over the last few months and there is no one thing that I have had to with that I have asked for or deserved. However knowing that I am to blame for none of it does not actually make me feel better.
When it comes to creativity, I find that depression and grief and other similar emotions cloud my ability to write. I know the artistic talent of many is driven by their personal grapple with their demons; for me it's about as effective as walking with a broken leg. Painful, slow and stunted.
I have never given this much thought. Perhaps it's because I tend write from a happy place, and my capability is a reflection of this. This in itself should not prevent me from writing when my mood is low. On a deeper level I sense that it's more that I become unnerved by the fashion in which words twist to reflect what I'm feeling a little too well. After all I never felt that mirrors were my friend. It is, in the other hand, a hurdle to my self expression which needs to be overcome.
On the bright side I finally got this months sick pay. I wonder if I will have to fight for it again next month...
