The last two weeks have been rough. I've been struggling to focus on getting things done and then trying to do ALL THE THINGS at the SAME TIME. To say the least, it hasn't worked out so great. I've made good progress on the writing projects. The crafting projects are gradually coming along. The apartment is kinda a mess but the kids had most of last week off. As a result, my living room looks like a toy factory exploded in here or something.
I finished the second prayer book that I was working on for the Filianic/Déanic community. I got the editing done and now I'm waiting on my proof to arrive in the mail. In the meantime, I've been trying to finish book seven of the Umbrel Chronicles of Evandar (the fantasy series that I've been writing). It went completely off the rails and my plot map is all but useless now because characters did random things. I'm trying to trust in the story and just write. It's been hard, though. I had things I wanted to accomplish in this book and now they're all up in the air.
I also finished after three years the psychic's handbook that I've been working on. I'm leaving editing that for until January. December is going to be my big push to finish gifts. I'm about half there. I'm also going to use writing time in December to get back to my journal writing. My seasonal affective disorder is making itself known along with my anxiety issues. Last night, I just about had a panic attack over misplacing my daily planner supplies.
I'm still trying to figure out why my anxiety is so ratcheted up right now. A part of me says there is some kind of anniversary date of some trauma, I just can't manage to get a good grasp on it. As Beloved would say, "Your brain is protecting you from something." That, however, has side effects of my struggling to concentrate and get things done. It would help if I had a therapist to work with right now, but the one I was seeing retired from the practice.
I feel like I am some kind of ultimate test or something for my therapists. I've lost count how many I've gone through because they were uncomfortable with what I was processing. At least in this case, the therapist left the practice because her dream job opened up (working with kids in special education). But, I am left wondering if I'm just not going to find a therapist who can handle working with me and I just have to work this out by myself. It is really beginning to look that way. Having been in some form of therapy for most of my adult life, I've got a good layman's grasp of how it works. It's just a lot easier when you're working with someone else to process really ugly things.
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