Depressed Writer Novels & Stories

“You would know why I didn’t trust him when we first talked then. I already knew him from both my family business and from the publishing industry. So I knew that he was a legit publisher, but still I couldn’t trust him, But he was as stubborn as I was and didn’t stop pestering me until one day I started wondering what would happen if I tried to write again. I was afraid that I would be back to staring at the white sheet while the memories from the incident played in my head over and over again. But to my surprise when I opened my laptop and put my fingers on the keyboard they started moving on their own.” “You regained your ability to write?”

One would hope I’d have a little more resolve this time around. I dropped myself back down on my scuffed Chesterfield sofa – a secondhand shop throwaway, worth less than the pen in my hand. It was as jaded as I was. A dejected version of the piece would have been in its prime. Fitting. I downed a shot of whisky before I resumed my writing with shaking fingers. The paper was lined, which should help me keep the words legible. Should. It hadn’t been working all that well so far. I’d written a variety over the months, some begging forgiveness, some trying to help my wife understand my filth, some practically blank as my sullied brain struggled for a reason.

Playlist~ Coldplay - Scientist One week later Micaela's POV All throughout the night until this morning I couldn't catch some sleep, it was as if I drank so much coffee that caused my insomnia. Last night isn't the only night that this has happened, if I'm not mistaken I've been having insomnia for more than a week now. After signing my divorce papers with his new lawyer, depression took it hold on me and that really paralyzed my thinking, the only thing I found myself doing was writing, I started writing book 2 of Shattered Hearts. I don't understand how I still got the inspiration to write, maybe is because I was penning down my real-life story.

Emma sat in her Brooklyn apartment three days after the editorial massacre, staring at her laptop screen with the same intensity she might reserve for defusing a bomb. Jake's words echoed in her mind with every attempt to write: "emotionally vacant," "formulaic," "passion by numbers." Each phrase felt like a surgical incision into her professional confidence.

Whenever the night fell deep and quiet, the familiar craving would flare up within me. It was an unbearable itch, like countless snakes writhing under my skin, always leaving me starving for more. Ever since my husband, Damon Neal, died in an accident, my body had been deprived of his touch and had grown increasingly insatiable by the day. I had exhausted every makeshift remedy at home, but it was never enough. I was at my prime age, where my needs ruled me so much that they painfully yet sweetly intruded on my daily life.

“What's wrong? Why don't we see each other anymore?” He looked genuinely distraught, as though he really had missed me, and that fire I keep trying to put out, reignites once more, stronger this time. “It's nothing, Richy. I've just been battling writer's block. I've been busy.” My voice is low, almost weak, even though I was telling the truth. “I've never been so stressed about my writing career as I am now. I've been trying to cure my block, brainstorming long hours. My readers need me. It's been three years since I got a book out. I'm scared of so many things. I'm scared they wouldn't find the next book as good as the last, or the others. Some days, I don't even eat. Some days I can't sle

To Wayne, the real-life version of Dane, you showed me light in my darkest hour. To Amy, for being my best friend and sister. Thank you for always having my back and trying to help me with my depression, even when you were drowning in yours. To my readers, thank you for loving my broken, twisted characters. Without you, there is no me. ----------------- Content Warnings Graphic Sexual Depictions Intimidation Rape Physical abuse Sexual abuse Harassment Drugs Violence Depression Self-hate Suicidal Thoughts Open-door spice (I'm super detailed lol)

Quentin inquired, "What if that person still has all their hobbies, goes out a lot, and occasionally acts provocatively? Also, they only occasionally have suicidal tendencies. Could they be depressed?" Exasperated, Zion adjusted his glasses. "I believe you might've misunderstood me, Mr. Lowe. Let me put it this way; depression steals the light from a person's eyes. Their minds are filled with sadness and negative thoughts, and they prefer to be alone. If you were to look at their brain waves, you'd notice abnormalities. But from what you're telling me, it sounds like that person is probably pretending to be depressed." Quentin fell silent. Zion suggested, "Well, why don't you install a surv

Any cute girl or heartbroken man knew that. "Give it to me good, guys. Don't let up until I'm a puddle on the floor, alright?" I dropped down on the couch and picked up my cereal, leaning back and pulling a blanket over my lap. Everything hurt from my depression, and I wasn't even sure the monster worked anymore. He'd been flaccid for fourteen days. It was a new record. "Call Guinness, honey," I yelled out and chuckled, hating myself and everyone else. The movie started, and I took my time eating the cereal, enjoying the love story. There was something so good, so right about falling in love, but that shit never panned out. Not even in the movies where screenwriters had the opportunity to fo

Probably because my pills aren't working anymore, so I do need a doctor check up real soon. Thing with depressive disorders is that you never get a clue when it's about to hit. I was feeling absolutely fine last week, in fact, my writing was better too, I was writing almost 7K every day. But then, since Monday morning, I fiund myself unable to get out of bed and combined with the flu, I'm completely crushed. Barely had any sleep for the last three days and it keeps getting worse. I've been crying one minute and laughing the next. Feeling like I'm no longer relevant and no one loves me. Yes, I know all that sounds kinda pathetic but it's completely out of my control.