...is good for the soul.
As I mentioned in my last post, I've been struggling in a writer's black hole. My thoughts can't focus on a single scene, and I haven't made any progress on any projects in the past four months.
Since I confessed this, my muse has returned for a brief visit. My writing alter ego who writes the steamy stories began the first scene of a new book. What joy!
Earlier this week, I also confessed a painful truth to my hubby. I told him I was afraid if I didn't lose 10-15 pounds before the end of August, I was going to have buy new clothes to start the school year. And I'd just bought a new set of clothes for myself the previous fall, I really don't want to spend all that money again.
The morning after my confession, I had such a renewed sense of motivation about taking care of myself. I set my alarm early to exercise, and I used a food journal to write down everything, which I have continued to do all week.
Why is sharing our struggles with someone else so important? Why does it relieve some of the burden of our challenges?