I haven't been keeping up with my paper journal. I have done some writing the past year but I wound up losing most of my work since it was on my old laptop that crapped out. I have most of it backed up, but since then I haven't worked on it at all. I haven't done much writing of any significance in 2016. I've been reading a lot and hanging out on twitch and laying low.
Right now I'm reading the diaries of Virginia Woolf. I am realizing that we have a few things in common, our battle with mental illness being the main one. I don't have suicidal tendencies, but we both have had nervous breakdowns due to the trauma we have endured in our lives. Considering what mental health services were like during World War I and just the little information on mental illness in general, let alone in women, added with her having been a child in the Victorian period, I'm sure she had it much worse than I.
I suppose in this house it is very hard to feel like I really have a room of my own if I am to write. I am rarely alone even when I am in my own room. That is one of the hardest things to deal with from day to day.
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