It's been a long time. Sorry about that. It wasn't only this journal I've pulled away from. All my online groups - pfft! Writing groups, distanced. Even good friends - arms' length.

When you begin to doubt who you are, or rather if who you are is something good and fine, then it makes it hard to reach out, you know? And doubts I've had.

Doubts about this whole writing thing. Fears that I'll always be just mediocre. One of those people who believe they've got a lot to give, and yet end up alone with fourteen cats, who only tolerate me because I feed them.

Fears of total inadequacy in every area of my life.

Who boy.

But yesterday I tested for my yellow sash in Kung Fu with my youngest son (yes, we have joined the Kung Fu revolution!!!), so that's progress. I have finished a novel, and know what's wrong with it and am fixing it, so that's progress. I spent a wonderful Thanksgiving day with family, surrounded by people who love me even though.

And that was the best thing in the world. I did not want to leave my brother's house - and sadly the day ended all too soon.

I'm still full of doubt. That monster, once delivered into your consciousness, is devilishly hard to get rid of. But psychiatrists are expensive.

I'll learn to deal, I guess. If only I can shake free of this paralysis I feel...