I met my psychiatrist on Wednesday. It was really wonderful. She was such a joy to talk to. I enjoyed myself greatly. She thinks I’m very smart. She was impressed by how well I kept up with her, how interesting our conversations were. I don’t think I’m an idiot or below average, but I don’t really feel exceptional…I’m not used to people complimenting my intelligence, the trait I value the most. It is difficult to accept.

I think I like her more than my therapist.

She also officially diagnosed me with depression, and started a prescription for Celexa. A noticeable effect will happen in about two weeks, I think.

My therapist really wants me to write a book. It’s tough, though; I’m terrible with plots. I don’t know where to begin. I wish I had a general direction for where the story should go, or a goal to work towards…but my characters are just floating in space.

I’ve found that forcing the problem doesn’t work. It’s better to work things out by just writing, and seeing where the keyboard takes you; but how do I navigate so empty a world?

Perhaps I should try and work on world-building. Maybe set the characters—already so well-developed—and focus on the world itself (especially since most of my stories are sci-fi/fantasy). Just try to get some information. A character’s goals and aspirations are important; but you must know where they’re coming from, I think. So, I should do that. Great! I have a plan. Now I need to find the time.