I got this account fully intending to submit works until my eyes went numb, but it seems that my drive has left me. My muse is still patiently feeding me half formed images and broken phrases, yet I feel incapable of completing them or even conveying their concepts. My last post was in May and my life has just simply tried to fall apart since, only to be held together by my wonderfully loving Sir, and I fear the strain it is causing him.
Since then I have been fighting valiantly against depression and various illnesses, but it is the dizzy spells that are winning the war. From Doctor visits, to useless pills, to all the "could be"s in the world, I am falling.
Most of the time I can force my way through the day but little else. The urge to write or draw consumes me at times only to be thwarted by my inability to focus on the pen in my hand. It hurts to hear the words in my head or see the image sprawl across the page without being able to put it there. I feel... chemically stupid. It is as if my very brain as against me and no one can figure out why.
Better still is that such pain pales in comparison to what I feel when I see friends, family, my love all look at me with a sympathetic ache in their eyes. I try my damnedest to smile through it but with every stagger, or wobbling stance I can only see how much I am weighing them down. I have become the burden I have always abhorred.
Even through all of this which would be an excellent source to draw inspiration from I cannot create. This very journal has taken me hours longer to write than it should. I don't know what is left for me to do. I feel like all I can do is be poked, prodded, stabbed, looked at, and in all ways violated by every Specialist possible and pray that one of them has an answer to make me better. At least let me write again, please.