In the hope that writing it out with bullet points will stop me succumbing to crazy thought patterns

[apiphile]

"Winter makes me batshit crazy" is the mantra I currently have on repeat at the moment. My friends are not:

• All disappearing and pulling away from me
• Only keeping me around because I'm such a fucking failure I make them feel better about their own lives
• Because they feel guilty
• Secretly laughing at me for being such a waste of space

The solution to feeling crappy about my output is not:

• Give up forever and go and get a proper 9-5 admin job somewhere and stop pretending to be something else
• To assume that this judgement is completely objective and not something which has been swinging about violently because of: lack of validation, stressful attempts to contact agents, loss of direction at the end of NaNo which happens EVERY SINGLE YEAR, and the fucking winter.
• Declare that people who claim I am at least better than E L James are only doing it because she's a touchstone of crapness and they have no taste to differentiate between good and bad writing and/or just want me to feel good about myself/think it's the right thing to do/have no compunction about letting me make a fool of myself.

The mounting sense of anxiety about sleep at the end of each day and the progression of time, plus a generalised terror about the future and conviction that everything is going to end badly on a national scale and that suicide is the only possible answer to the coming hell:

• Are symptoms of the same fucking problem I have every winter
• It's sodding SAD self
• Put on the lizard lamp and stop freaking out
• Go outside more than once a week
• Stop being a crazy person
• Seriously stop

Also lying in bed in the middle of the day with the duvet over my face while thinking increasingly bitter thoughts about the ugliness and disgustingness of all human culture, life, interaction, and achievement is not, in actual fact, a substitute for eating a proper lunch.