PTSD is an odd creature.  One of the side effects is flashbacks and insomnia.  They go together.  Once the flashbacks get triggered, I can’t relax enough to sleep.  Putting my head on the pillow is just asking for another one.  The only way to ride them out is to stay so compulsively busy that eventually my body can override my mind and memories.

I fought it.  I always do.  For a little while, I thought I had managed to derail this round, but about six o’clock, i discovered that they had me by the heels.  I know what set them off, for all the good it did me.

When Dickstain (and i’m certain this will make him very happy) threw that meth picture at me in response to my comment “transgressive is no excuse for bad writing,” I felt like I had been hit in the solar plexus.

As of last Friday, i’m between books.  It takes me about a week to gear up for the next one.  i read through two different roughs, and tried to gear up fast enough, faster than usual, in order to put the flashback energy (if you can call it that) into fiction.  However, I was not fast enough.  So it’s going into blogging instead.

It’s what I call ‘binge writing,’ and usually the binge is fiction.

So i guess this could be called ‘binge bloggin.” 🙂

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