the end of the road

I am facing the loss of my days as a writer.

This isnt about my muse, i still get ideas, but my ability to communicate them seems to be gone.

I tried to write a little story for the Christmas contest, and despite having what I thought was a decent idea, what I produced looked more like a series of bullet points on Twitter.

It probably doesnt help that I'm grieving and fighting depression, but I am seriously worried this is the end.

To anybody who has actually read anything I've written and hoped for more, I'm sorry.