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Moontime began around noon today. Cramps were significantly less than last time, so the ayurvedic medicine I've been taking (a combination of ashokarishta and lodhrasava) is doing its thing. Last month I was obsessing over Nushu period panties. I've been pimping the Nushu Hiphugger to anyone and everyone when the topic of periods comes up, and someone I recced it to has become as much of a fan as I am:


I replied with my original post saying I'm the one who recced it, and this was her response (she @/ed me and I redacted my full name although you'll know it if you know my debut novel/have been around my blog long enough lol)

I'm not being dramatic when I say my life has changed. I could never wear a period product for four to six hours in one go without overflowing, before. My life has changed so much that I went out with Bella (who is here briefly) for brunch. We had congee and pancakes! And after we came back to my house to spend the day coworking. I even dropped her back home, despite that taking a couple of hours. I used to never be able to go out on my period.

I've finished writing Project Fang. I'm partway through the final edits, and it'll be done in a matter of days. It's also the first book in a duology, which became clearer to me the closer I reached the end I was worrying so much about crafting enough plot to sustain a novel that I overshot by quite a lot I'm happy with the arc of the first book though, it stands pretty well on its own.

The closer I come to putting it out in the world, the more mixed up my feelings become. I enjoy this book immensely, it has much of what I like in it. But I'm not feeling that heady elation I got when I finished my previous books. What I'm feeling is more akin to post-book blues. I'm trying to understand why I feel closer to depressed this time. I mean, in general this process has felt empowering. I thought I couldn't write after all the stuff I'd been through, and it turned out I could. Also, after being offered my dream job and that offer being retracted before I could take it, here I was, giving myself my dream job. Nobody can take it from me because nobody can stop me writing and publishing my next book. Here's something that's truly mine and that nobody can take away from me. I should be overjoyed, no?

I want to get to the bottom of this but I don't know how. Have you experienced anything similar? Would appreciate any lights that can be shed here. I guess I haven't felt very excited about books in general because of certain bad experiences, but I have had good experiences too, have also met good people and had a lot of help from fellow writers. I've asked myself over the past few days whether I truly still love books or whether I'm just hanging on to them because I haven't been able to fall in love with anything else the way I did with books as a child. But I know I do love them! I just haven't felt it that often lately. I thought becoming part of the indie space would help me feel it more often and it does help. It's been helping me all this time! It's like the sole reason I didn't relapse into depression. It's just now, that it's feeling... like this.

I have messaged my therapist, but I have not managed to get a slot with her for months because of work (last time I talked to her was March). I hope I can wrangle a session with her soon, but I can't count on it. Maybe I should bring this up somewhere on the indie author discord I'm in. I don't know. I'm just so confused.

Maybe this is just PMS, y'all. Maybe? //crosses fingers, toes and eyes
Maybe it's going to find a new way to make me question everything every month, or something. I don't know. At least that would be an explanation. Right now I'm just unable to figure out what's underlying this.