Why can't life be easy?

If it's not family problems it's money problems; if it's not money, it's work, or the house, or the garden. Why can't life be easy?

To be honest I decided to write this post after reading Zee Monodee's post today at her blog. She mentioned the line between "too much" and "too little" when writing posts for readers. I feel a lot of the time that I have nothing interesting to say, or that my posts are boring. I don't want to bore my readers, but I never know how much is too much. I mean, we are all strangers linked through books. You're on this site, reading this post because well, you want to, but because you're either a fellow writer or a readers and you have read either mine of Dianna's work, or you just know and think we're awesome and like to read our ramblings.

How much do you want to know about a writer? Well, about another human being. Do you prefer to just read about work, or does it mean something to hear about every day annoyances and fun stuff?

This is a post about me, I guess. I suppose you could say I have nothing interesting at the present moment to share with you in regards to work. So, I'm just writing what springs to mind; what's been going on with me at the moment.

Question, is it really bad that I would like to tell everyone to bugger off and then crawl away in to a hole and just concentrate on writing?

For those of you who are crazy enough to read my posts, you know I'm going through a slow period/dry spell. Dianna talked about stagnation in her post last Thursday and I have to say that it just plain sucks. Since last summer I have personally felt that I have come to a resting period in my life, and I have to say I hate it. I hate that it feels like my life isn't moving forward. I hate that it seems like everyone else is rushing ahead of me. I hate that I feel like nothing is waiting for me; nothing is round that corner. And although I understand we all have our own paths and speeds, and reasons for what we do etc. I just feel so irritated by it all.

Like Dianna mentioned, change is a good way to break the stagnation. I have said myself on many occasions to others that if they aren't happy - and it's not that I'm not happy - they need to make a change in their life.

My problem is I wouldn't even know where to begin. What about my life do I need to change? I don't know, because my life is okay at the moment. Nothing is really wrong, I just can't help wondering what is going on. I guess my problem is that I'm a deep thinker. Most people might never even have such thoughts about life, but I can't seem to switch those questions off at the moment.

Naturally this form of thought process is not helped by everything else going on around me. I feel like there aren't enough hours in the day and although I am trying I can't get on top of everything. It also feels like writing is practically impossible at the moment because everything else is just falling in front of me and refusing to move.

I thought it was all me. I have spent the last couple of months thinking something is wrong with me. I've become lazy. I've been stressing that maybe I am losing both interest and the creativity to write because maybe I'm not supposed to write. Maybe I was just kidding myself. . . and then I found out that lack of interest was actually a symptom of depression.

I have depression. I don't tend to talk about it very much. I'm not someone who suffers from severe depression, but I swing between mild to moderate. I hate that I have it, and have had it since being a young teenage. I have had bad stages of it on an ongoing time scale. These last couple of years I have been better, but these last two months have been horrid. It has seriously been kicking my butt.

I haven't wanted to leave the house, and I hate that feeling. I don't want to go to work. I hate that I get out of bed most days and want to cry. The last two months I have woken up and just felt like I can't breathe, or that there is a hole burning in the middle of my chest. I feel so empty and alone sometimes, and I loathe that the weight that accompanies my depression makes me feel like the entire world is caving in on me.

I feel pathetic. I guess I might even sound pathetic, and ridiculous, and today I can write that without tears swelling in my eyes, because today I am okay. Today - despite the small amount of stress that occurred - I feel okay. I can talk about this because life is okay.

So, why can't life be easy? Why can't it flow and make sense?

Every time I hear someone say that my automatic response is, "Because it would be boring if it was simple. If we all got everything we wanted there would be no lessons, no comparison between the good and the bad. Life would be rather pointless if it was straightforward."

Not exactly what you want to hear when you're feeling down, but it's the truth. I've had to get to this point where I accept that I have depression and it isn't going anywhere. It will effect me and I will just have to deal with it. I can't stress out about things because I'm not going to help myself, and that I will write, slowly, but it's better than nothing.

Maybe this is too much information. I apologize if it is. I usually wait to post last thing because if I am stuck for a subject, something usually happens and inspires me. Naturally, it isn't always the case as with today. I'm hoping next week I will have heard back about submissions and might be able to share some news in regards to books etc. either way, I promise next weeks posts will be light and full of pictures or cheesy jokes. :-)

Hope you've all had a nice Monday.