--lying in a coma while hovering family members agonize over whether or not to pull the plug,
--being taken to task for several decades of sins and omissions by a tribunal in some anteroom of the afterlife,
--wandering a foreign continent with a large bump on my head and no memory of who I am, or
--waiting in a state of fading hope and dwindling strength for a search and rescue team to pluck me from the wreckage of a small plane crash in the Canadian wilderness.
I'm in fact alive and well, and in quite good health, all things considered. But I haven't been in good spirits, and when I'm down I don't want to talk about it because it just brings other people down. I'm going through some kind of crisis of confidence where I am doubting myself and all the things I thought I could do well at, or if not well, then at least reasonably okay. My ability to write is one of those things, so that's why I haven't been writing. I've been burying myself in the escapism of reading, instead. I feel kind of disconnected from humanity, and I'm probably spending too much time alone.
I wanted to wait until I was feeling like myself again before I posted anything, but at this point I just don't know when I'm likely to be feeling better, and I guess it's about time I told you what's happening with me. I'm reasonably confident that this won't go on forever because it there's one thing you can be sure of in this life, apart from death, taxes and spam email, it's that nothing is static and everything changes. My crisis of confidence will eventually pass. And even if it doesn't, I promise I will finish Justice anyway.
Thanks for caring, those who care. I'll be back when I'm feeling more positive.