Intellectual sado-masochism

Okay, maybe not quite that severe, but I seem to really be into mental self-torture.

If you read my other blog (Voyage to Xanadu Release Info), you will see that I received the final draft of my book. I've been hacking away at the final version like a madman, and everytime I stop and take pause about what I wrote, it's like someone stuck a knife into my heart. No, don't call 911! Not like that. I mean, emotionally. This book really strikes a bit too close to home. Of course, had you read most (if not all) of this blog, you would probably understand what I mean.

I just finished editing the part that says, "Something wanted him to realize that he should not stop dreaming. Wasn't there a vow he made?"

Nobody should lose sight of their dreams. However, my "dream" (and no, I am NOT on drugs!) is on a monumental and unrealistic scale. It still hurts, though, to realize this--that the dream is impossible. Why?

I'll ask my shrink.