I know I've said it before, but I hate being depressed. I'd give anything to be better, truly better, not this muddled, lethargic feeling I have now.

Okay, I'm not suicidal. That's a plus, I guess. Three doses of Wellbutrin a day and I'm not suicidal. I'm not too creative, either, but with all antidepressants, you have to take negatives with the plusses. Prozac erased my libido. Celexa eliminated erections. Everything works with Wellbutrin, except creativity.

Two doses a day and I'm more creative. Short stories on a whim creative, but I'm also a way too close to being suicidal. The mood swings go higher and lower. It's the lower ones that make driving over a bridge scary. I don't think I'd ever go so far as to actually attempt, again, but it's there when I'm taking only two doses. There's that uncertain risk.

But, now, that I'm home vegetating while my wrist heals, I'm following doctor's orders and taking three doses a day; and, I'm suffering. I finally finished Chapter 11 of The Pastel Cowboy, but didn't go as far as I wanted. The chapter ends at a logical point, but I think it was more a matter of acquiesing to the inevitable rather than reaching out toward an ultimate goal.

Writing is difficult, to say the least. I have no creative energy. This morning I woke up early, mostly due to Chili Verde and GERD, and finished the final edit of the chapter and then turned to the short story I plan on writing for the Spring Anthology, but there weren't any words to put down. I know what I want say and how I want to say it, but when I sit in front of the keyboard nothing comes out except an overwhelming sense of emptiness. I look at the words I've written and there's no recognition.

This isn't a block. I've been paying attention to the effect of the medicine and this is simply how the medicine affects me. I can do one creative thing at a time. I can think of multiple stories, but when it comes to working, I can only do one story at a time.

The cure is simple, go back to taking two doses a day and walk on the edge of oblivion, but having gobs of creative energy.

I think I'll try lethargy for awhile. It's kind of restful being in a muddle. Safer, too.