I am desperately trying to juggle everything I have going on in my life and it is just about killing me. I'm about ready to jsut drop it all and say screw it. Nothing is worth the restless, worrying nights and the stress-filled, panic attack inducing days. I want to write and everything else can go to hell.
But I can't do that. Not yet. I have to earn a living. I have to have a roof over my head. I need food in my belly. I need human interaction.
Sometimes I wonder, though, if all the heartache is worth it.
Any advice? Anybody?
Eight years: First meeting - Eight years ago today Axel met Dean for the very first time. He was 10 years old here, wearing size 4T clothes (to compare, Angela who looks very tall in t...
2 months ago