So, what am I then?

I’ve spent the last week thinking.

Not writing - not coding - not messing with websites. Thinking.

I’ve come to the grand conclusion that I don’t know what I am any more. I mean, yes, I’m a mother, writer, fiancee to my beloved, bipolar…I don’t think coding and webmistress should be missed off of there, but sometimes, I wish it was.

But mostly, I’ve forgotten how to write - how to immerse myself in story worlds that I adored. How to find the words to describe the images in my head - to excorise them, and move on to new ones. I’m *supposed* to be a writer. Why can’t I write?

So, that’s what I’ve been working on. Working out why I’m only writing scraps. Pushing on with the scraps.

So, at the moment, what I am is a wanabee. I wanna write. I will get to again - but for the moment, I’m fixing the little fractures, and the big cracks.