I think I left it in the washing machine.
Because it’s all soggy, washed out, dripping ideas down the drain.
It was so much fun taking ADHD meds called Vyvanse around Christmas time. I wrote and wrote and wrote.
I could write from 6 p.m. to midnight non-stop, words just flowing on the page – I would write so fast I left out some words. I wrote emotion, sex, descriptions. I could literally see the story unfold in my mind.
I asked my friend to read it for me and give me her opinions and ideas for changes.
I asked another friend to read a scene because she could be one of the characters.
Both gave me encouragement and praise.
My husband read the whole fifteen chapters and even if it’s a subject he’d never read on his own, he liked it. He also had ideas, caught mistakes and gave me praise.
Unfortunately, the meds also made me anxious and cut down my attention span to that of a gnat’s so I had to stop taking them.
And I stopped writing. Almost completely. Look at my latest postings on this blog and you’ll see what I’m talking about.
While weaning off the meds, my mom was diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer, hence the post 3 months to live.
Now I’m taking another type of meds, Strattera, which are not working well so far. They leave me feeling depressed, desperate and sad. They don’t even lighten the ADHD symptoms yet – they take weeks before showing any improvement and I haven’t even reached the proper dosage yet – still implementing them gradually.
This is my second attempt at writing in almost a month – see here for the first one.
I read a post by Chuck Wendig, this writer I follow, who said we have to write everyday, even on days when we don’t feel like it. So here I am, writing.
The effort has given me a headache. Should have put my brain in the delicate cycle.
Black Archangel 