A Better Understanding

Today, after many endless ponderings in my pursuit of figuring out the absolute definition of just what has happened to me, and my character, I eventually came up with this: I am a broad and vague overview of myself (or my old self). I am Connie without all the paradoxical and intricate details. How does this make me feel? Coming up with the definition, I was in logical mode. I haven't really thought about it all that much on an emotional level. What I will say is this, I am bitterly despondent to know that my skills in writing have decreased substantially. Writing brings me joy beyond imagination. Writing let me use my imagination. I can't really expand on things, because my mind just isn't capable anymore of delving into rich detail and diving deep into my soul. I'm just...simple...as hell.