I’m in the middle of a depression episode. Longest one yet. Not a suicidal one. It’s a lack of focus and concentration when it comes to writing and art. 50% of it is because of High Stress due to arthritic Pain in wrists, spine, and hips. The other 50% is High Stress due to Poverty and thus, low self-esteem.
I wanted to start selling special fiction for $3 a piece. Good advice from a Facebook acquaintance. Except I can’t come up with something I think is worth selling. I freely offer all of my fiction because I give back to the Stargate SG-1 fandom that has kept me sane for the last 23 years.
99% of my work has explicit sex scenes (Slash, not Ship, which is another way of saying Gay, not Straight). It was all thanks to my active libido. But that was true for the years between 2001 and 2014. When I was 41 to 54. Since then, my libido has gradually dried up and therefore my interest in sex scenes has plummeted, and thus with it, the ability to write Romance between Jack and Daniel. Or in the case of my Trinity Universe, Jack, Daniel, and Jason. Now, whenever my libido kicks in, it lasts for maybe 15 minutes. NOT the length of time needed to write a story–even a PG-13 version.
I keep waiting for the libido to kick back into a healthy sexual drive, but despite replacing meds with ones that don’t inhibit sexual drive, it hasn’t happened. It’s dried up, along with my desire to write anything more than a page or 1,200 words.
Bear with me please. As soon as I figure out how to get more income, maybe that’ll help with the mental slump. I’m hoping it would, but I have a horrible feeling that this mental bullshit is permanent. And here I said I’d continue to write until I dropped dead. Seems I was massively premature.
BUT, I have hope. Maybe not a substantial amount of it, but it’s there nonetheless.