Sometimes the words come easy. Sometimes every sentence is a fight for your life. If you don't have depression, you might not understand how it makes everything harder, more painful. How it makes you grind your teeth as you force yourself to do basic tasks. All you want to do is lie in bed and stop existing, but you can't. And if you try, you'll feel worse.

I'm not doing so well right now. I lost half of last month to an upper respiratory infection. The antibiotics and the infection itself left me barely able to eat. I lost my voice from coughing, my throat so raw I lived on ramen, broth and popsicles. Everything else hurt to eat. So if you're wondering where I was last month, now you know.

Now I'm depressed. I'm not sure where it came from. Is it the news? Is it my life? Do I deserve this? It's a long holiday weekend. Unless I've got extras hiding somewhere, I'll run out of my meds by Sunday. Then I'll be even worse off. But life goes on and so will I.

I am still trying. I won't give up.

Currently editing: Wish Upon a Storm

Currently writing: the next PSI short story. Lazarus tangles with a homme fatale journalist and a cult to the King in Yellow. Fun stuff! Stay tuned for more information.

Currently reading: getting back into reading The Erstwhile Tyler Kyle. Gonna start a collection of Hammett’s Continental Op short stories, for reference and research.

This email is short and I'm sorry for that but I don't have it in me to fake a smile today. Everything hurts. I just want to sleep. So sleep I will. Next week, I hope I'll be smiling again.

Good luck out there.