When Writing Can Literally Kill You

I have never considered myself a "real" artist even though that is a lie.  Many if not most artists draw their stuff to create either from the dark side of their emotional palate or the entire thing.  While I do draw from all my experience, I cannot function without some stability.

We have no apartment and trying to find one was so much stress that combined with unemployment plus a theft plus a betrayal from one if our would be friends in Miami caused me to have the closest thing to a nervous breakdown I am actually capable of having.

Right now, there is just no energy for it.  Ignoring my hatred of lost work, there is also the fact that I kind if have to fool myself six or seven different ways to write this and all my capacity for self deception needs to focus on finding a job right now.

So with heavy heart I have to give up nanowrmo this year.   Next year if I have a job and we have a place.

This may be the last update for a while