First of all, I want to say that luckily my problems are nothing of a real trouble. It's not about my/my family's health or something that serious, but still, it's something that makes me really sad, and I kind of want to talk about it.
This journal will be so full of feelings that it won't probably make much sence, though.
So, you may know that over the past two years or so I've been working on a huge fantasy story called "Strata".
And these two years were really crazy and great, full of struggle, hope, disappointment, hard work and everything. You know, when I used to finish my studies late at night and sit down to write another chapter instead of going to sleep (which would really have been MUCH more sensible), I almost felt like, ugh, you know, a real writer.
And even though the work went FAR slower than I have once hoped and I wasn't completely happy with the result, I still believed that one day I'll make it till the end. I really believed I could do that. I really believed that somehow this story would change my life.
And everything was fine.
But then one day a couple of weeks ago it all went BOOM and all of a sudden I found myself down on the floor, with neither strength nor wish to go on. I honestly don't know what went wrong. I guess everything. I still haven't understood it yet, and I am not sure about anything, but it seems that's it. That's how this story ends: with no result at all.
I am just not good enough or something.
I am completely knocked down. "Strata" used to be my lighthouse that led me throug all these scary, upsetting and confusing things that keep happening in my life, it was kind of a thing that was worth waking up for no matter how tough everything was going, and now it's just gone. All the time and effort spent on it, all the dreams connected to it, everything.
I know it's not the end of the world. But still. It used to mean an awful lot to me. You know. It really took a lot of space in my thoughts every day and kind of helped me to go through my family and university difficulties, and now I don't have a slightest idea what could replace it.
And what is more, I am not even sure I can be a writer anymore. I don't really know if I have a slightest drop of talent, and I am afraid of starting working on another story, because I fear that I won't be able to finish it. My confidence is gone. I don't really know. It seems that I am not sure about pretty much anything.
I don't even have a plan B for my life, I used to think that I'll be a writer no matter what. I don't even know, what else on earth I could possibly be.
This all scares me so much.
At the moment it just feels like I've lost something I used to hold to, and that makes all the other things in my life much more difficult, too.
And this kind of makes me freak out.
I guess time will heal everything, but right at the moment it's all just too hard
I don't really know
I don't really know.