Depressed Writer Novels & Stories

This little thing, at least she was tactful and knew how to find a reason to decline. "It can't be, she's sick? I heard that this depression is a very difficult illness to treat. Once it's serious, it might cause the thought of lightly living." Old Master Wolfleim had no choice but to follow the steps and come down. He looked like he was filled with emotion.

by the great African literary giant, Chinua Achebe's work: "The Novelist as a Teacher" There comes a time in the life of a writer that, that basket-like waste-bin is filled with crumpled papers, each page screaming "writer's block!" as they nosedive their way into the waste-bin--let's all ensure that their life be recycled for...a better nosedive tomorrow, this time screaming "9-years-old-4.5-ft-tall, brown-eyes-coloured-boy's phlegm".

Rain recalled her life in Japan before she decided to come to Italy. She always felt alone despite living in the same house with three other girls. She stayed up all night and didn’t rest through the day, she would write…and write and write and her publisher would keep asking for more, keep setting deadlines. The was like a walking corpse, writing about things she wished she could have in her life and then crying after every chapter, depression consumed her and though her friends tried to help, they couldn’t but she made them believe that they did.

MIA I stared at the blank screen after erasing the same paragraph for the third time. Writing used to be so easy for me. When I was still depressed, and contemplating suicide back in Gregory Baxters house, writing was my escape. My nervous system was not as imbalanced anymore, and that didn't make for a good inspiration. I decided to take a break and just aimlessly scroll through my phone. The second I picked up my phone, a strange message popped up on my screen.

To know that there are people who were actually interested in what I had written still blows my mind. As you know I haven't updated this story in a while. First I was stuck in a week or week and a half long bought of depression. I've struggled with that and anxiety ever since I was in high school, I just didn't know what it was at the time. I have been on medication which helps however I just get into this little rough patches where I just don't want to do anything. Not clean my house, cook any food, not write, nothing. It sucks a lot to be honest.

AAAAAAH. I need a break though. I’m sorry I couldn’t write out everything and just push it all out. I thought I could, but life got in the way. I understand if you’re upset. I take it with full responsibility and trust me when I say I am bowing humbly. Sickness, depression, kids in and out of ER, life changes, pain, more sickness…so much sickness…has thrown me over and over and yet I do still try my best.

Sluggishly motivated, she often thinks her job is to be a hopeless romantic. M.M.Ward M.M.Ward - Mama Magie Ward- Farm mom and author who writes as part of my stroke recovery. My stories are a walk between shadow and light. I write stories about and for those who have been through much. There will be triggers for survivors, things I would wish on anyone, but sadly, these are the trials many face in today’s world. Some of will overcome, some will succumb, and I encourage all to seek help. Weep, cope, reach out. You are not alone. There is always the choice... Become Better, not bitter. #MMWard

She shifted her gaze to Mr Wellspring's full face, "Look at me , am hypertensive too. I work hard all day, at home they call me a workaholic but what will I do? I have to make money, I have responsibilities on my shoulder. My husband is technically a useless man, to me he is nothing but a sperm donor. All he does is to impregnate me that is why I didn't go beyond having two kids for him. I have four kids in all, I can't watch them suffer, I do different kind of jobs, even odd jobs, I combine three jobs in a week but am getting old, it's telling on me, my strength reduced everyday, my body is growing weaker and weaker everyday and the husband I have only make matters worst. I guess I kept thi

I said and went in. They are nothing but a problem in our life, the sooner they realize it, the better for them. 🌹Jennie 🌹 I left the house without having a place to go, I kept wandering on the street like an orphan, I don't feel like going to work this night, I'm seriously down, even if I go, I won't concentrate, that's why I love doing my things with joy, but this night I felt less of myself. It's been 30 minutes now, I kept roaming the aimless busy street, depression is really bad, I can't believe I lose all the hope I've had that kept me going since all these days, why can't my parent believe in my handwork instead of the fruitless marriage.

“Once I'm down, it can take me about three months to get out of the depression again. And every single day just feels stretched out and you have nothing to do but lay in bed and wonder why you're still alive.” Hunter understood what she was saying, he was thinking about how it felt at the orphanage when he was younger. But the difference was that when he got the money, he's depression and problems went away. But she, she was basking in money and yet she was a lonely soul. “And the worst part of all that is you hate yourself for staying in that bed and not getting up. For being so useless. Helpless...” She continued with the agitated hand-fiddling. “You stay hating yourself for not doing anyt