Writing is making me a heinous bitch. I can’t explain it, there is just so much frustration. The only thing I can equate it to is being 9 months pregnant and just ready to get that baby out (not that I really know what that is like either). There is this story inside of me and I have to get it out…like yesterday. Only it doesn’t really work that way.
There is just so much riding on this, at least in my head. So I’m working it out even if it means I’m a cranky bitch sometimes. This is definitely a labor of love…and anger and sadness and all the other emotions. Hopefully, it pans out. If not, don’t worry, I’ll just delete my fb because I can’t even imagine what I’ll be like if that happens. But I’m thankful for y’all for caring enough about me. I’m trying. Promise.