Have you ever just found yourself, staring at the blank page of a blog or a diary, and thought, "I have nothing worth recording. why do I even bother? Who the fuck cares?"
Well I have been. Almost every day in fact for the last few weeks.
My days have been filled with getting up, going to work, coming home, making art work, then reading and bed. That's all. In fact some days there is no art, it's just reading. How is that exciting? How is that worth talking about??? It's not. Surely. No, the feeling is, however, as hard as it is to pinpoint. That feeling of "I am too small to be significant".
And before you ask, yes, I do suffer from depression, and I am doing stuff to help it become manageable, but that doesn't mean that it completely fades, and these feelings come and go in waves. So at the moment I am making my life work, even if it does feel completely pointless, and like I am wasting all your time.
I have found however, that I am able to focus on my book or my game more intensely at the moment which is a wonderful escape. Although, watching "My little Pony" becomes a rather psychedelic experience...