Kira Butler | Drowning: A summer project
I've been mired in place for the past two months. Just choked with the inability to look at the draft, much less work on it. Thinking about writing was giving me fits of anxiety, and not writing was making me depressed. I am depressed. I am also high-functioning. It's a paradox of forced smiles and not giving a shit about polite, lighthearted conversations that are irrelevant when contextualized against the thing you want the fucking most -- the thing you live for -- is also the thing that hurts you.