Here is the thing :

I write to flush away ideas.

And while flushing away ideas, I see other aspects of them.

I end up writing more.

It eventually escalates into mental harrassement.

I don't exaggerate : it takes a wanton neurotic activity to black out in the kitchen while a close dear friend is confiding herself and crying out her pain.

I told her I didn't listen. I told her she had to repeat. She had the decency to at least ask what was bothering me.

When I replied that my character's ideas are starting to become toxic to me too, she was about to smash my head in the pan then send me out of the balcony for a five floors fall.
It was a wake up call nonetheless.

So now, I'm writing to flush out the effect of writing all the while writing to flush out ideas.

I really want to be done. It doesn't look I will be done by the end of this year though.

Or, I should cut back on social life, because I'm not giving up on Dutch courses and certainly not my workout, even less reading time.

I need to write.