saturday.

I woke up after a terrible nightmare last night, it was, like, half past two, middle of the night, and I just couldn't go back to sleep again, because it was too terrible, almost like a night terror. My GF said she had trouble waking me up from it, although she could hear me saying things like "no" and stuff and knew it had to be pretty bad.

So I sat up a couple of hours between two-thirty and five-thirty, getting a lot of writing done which was really nice. I got started on August, managed nine poems before crawling back to bed and catching a few more hours of sleep.

This morning I feel slightly better. Still very, very anxious and it doesn't take much to set of anxieties and worries and catastrophe scenarios in my head. However, I feel creative and energetic otherwise and have written almost non-stop since waking up at eight. Which means the sixteen poems I had planned for today are almost done, I think I'm on August 15th right now, trying to get started. I've been doing sprints in my writing group Discord server and as always, that has helped a lot, too.

So, I think, to reward myself for surviving yesterday, mostly without a hitch, I am going to just write all day today, as much as I can manage. I feel stronger when I write. I feel more removed from the things that pain and frustrate me. I feel competent and free.

I like feeling that way. I like feeling independent and my own person, not tied to all this shit going on in my actual life.

So, that's what I'm gonna do.

Don't worry, be happy.

...

Whoever said that should get the treatment I gave our apartment in my dream last night. Tear them down and burn them to the ground. F***. I had so much aggression and frustration and anger that needed out, apparently.

saturday.

It has been a strange Saturday to me. On one hand, I have been insanely productive, managing to write the entirety of chapter 8 more or less in one sitting, but on the other, I have had major emotional hangovers from yesterday and just felt like shit most of the time, which - I guess - is the reason why I could just write so much. I needed to get out of my own head, or at least into another mindspace.

Now I've wrapped up my writing for the day, rearranged my schedule for the rest of the fic, listened to some Two Steps From Hell to unloosen some of the mental knots in my system and am drinking chamomile tea before bedtime. In half an hour's time, I'll be going to bed.

I kinda want to write a whole rant about what's going on in my mind, but I actually don't have the energy, so let me just reassure you, I can fucking feel the existence of my psyche right now. Lots of stuff going on in there. Lots of anxiety.

Not enough pride and accomplishment at what I've been able to do today, like write 1/12th of my novel. This is a good thing, self! At this rate, I should be done before March is out. Seriously. Bravo.

__________

Words: 36.389/50.000~
Chapters: 8/12
Poems 243/365
Pages: 215

Only including the last one because it was a wild experience seeing the page counter reach 200 and then go beyond. Just, wow, did I just do that?

Also, I am two-thirds through this novel, it is crazy! Need autumn and the beginning of winter and we're full circle. And I've made notes for how I want it to end, so I actually have a good idea of where I'm going from here, some important events and thoughts to be touched upon in every month until December now. For my process, that is a good and necessary thing.

I generally need to have some idea of where I'm going with my writing, no matter what length. I can't write blindly or make things too much up as I go along. A good idea is welcome, please.

For now, I'm relaxing with this, trying to wind down and get ready for sleep.