Writing has always been a big part of my life. Not poetry. Fiction. Always long works of fiction.

It's not easy, with a stressful job, but I always managed to do at least an hour a day, and a lot more than that on days off.

Since I got depressed, I haven't written at all.

Now, I have a weekend free and I have no idea if I should push myself to do some.

It's mentally gruelling. I'm always trying to push to improve myself so it's never what I'd describe as pleasure.

Also, the piece I'm working on has a couple of harrowing scenes, not dissimilar to scenes in my own past.

I really want to finish it.

Will it break my head?