I saw one of those things on Facebook yesterday. You know, the inspiring quote put over a lovely picture that can never be attributed to just one originator. But this one caught my attention because 2016 was particularly rough to me in the second half. The biggest and worst thing to happen to me in 2016 was that my health got worse to the point where I lost my job in November.
Two months to the day since I announced a hiatus, it seems.
I’ve had a lot of time to think. A lot of time to figure out what I want for my creative life. I’ve decided I’m really stinking tired of letting everything else get in the way, especially myself. I feel like I’m rebuilding myself slowly, one small piece at a time, from the bottom up. I had to be broken down completely, I think, for things to be put back the way they need to go.
It’s going to take a long time. I’m holding no illusions about that. But it’s going to be worth it.
Expect to see the changes and updates I was planning on making before the hiatus soon. I’ve got three LTUE summary posts hiding in my drafts folder waiting to be completed, and I have other ideas coming. I’m also doing The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, so I expect that I’ll be sharing some of the experiences from that with you as well.
Anyway. Rambled on long enough. I’m back, and I’m glad to be back. I’ve missed you all. ❤
For a while, I gave up.
And I’m still thinking of giving up, at least until I somehow find the resources I need to get the medications I need to control my fibromyalgia and depression. I don’t want this blog, which is supposed to be about my writing, to turn into just a space to rant about how awful I feel life is some days. Because life would NOT be awful if I were capable of seeing it through a realistic lens, not one distorted and tinted dark by a stupid lack of the right chemical proportions in my brain.
It’s become increasingly clearer that I am not going to be able to make money from writing when I have no interest or motivation to produce more written work. I have no focus. I have no interest in anything that used to excite or inspire me. The hours that I don’t spend searching for a job (one that will pay for the not-cheap meds I need in order to overcome this crap and keep said job long term) are spent staring at the computer screen almost blankly, not caring about a single damn thing in the world. Writing used to be an outlet, my therapy, my one love that I never lost in spite of everything else… but now it feels gone too, lost to the soul-sucking void of depressive apathy.
THIS IS NOT OKAY.
I’m not okay. But at least I can still see that for myself, which means I can get help.
So until I’m okay, or a lot closer to it than I am right now, it looks like I’m on another hiatus. I sort of was anyway, but this is the official statement. I need to gather up what little focus I do have and direct it all at fighting the fight. Stressing over updating my blog? Not high on the need-to-do-this-to-be-okay-again priority list. I just don’t have enough spoons to spend.
I wish I could give you a time frame. I wish I could say it’s only going to be a week, two weeks, a month, two months. The truth is, it could be a lot longer than that. But I can promise this: when I can feel more than sub-human again? I will be back. And those changes and features I want to do will come with me.
Love you all. See you on the other side of this stormy night.
I’m about 3k words behind as of writing here this morning. Right now, the fact that I am behind and need to catch up is one of the few things in my life that makes any sense to me, so it’s a good thing to focus on. The best news is that I have all day to catch up, and that time includes a nice, quiet write-in at the local library.
I know I haven’t said much here in a few days. Right now I am going through the worst flare-up of fibromyalgia that I have ever had, and dealing with a lot of emotional pain going on in my personal life. I’ve been trying to conserve my spoons (see spoon theory), and so a lot of things (like blogging) have fallen by the wayside. I’m slowly starting to feel better and getting back into the routines I’ve been trying to make for myself. Would still like to curl up in a ball for a week and then try to deal with everything, but that would be too much like admitting defeat, I think, and I don’t have that luxury.
So wish me luck in getting through the next ten days. Both my mental and physical health are trying to turn against me right now and I refuse to let it happen without a fight.
So I’m sure you’ve all noticed that I’ve been very much absent these past few weeks. Or at least I hope you have. I would hate to be forgotten.
I feel like sharing the reasons for my absence, even though I know I’m not obligated:
- My job demands much of my time and energy (10 hour shifts plus 2-3 hours commute time), and leaves little for the writing work I actually enjoy–especially with the fibromyalgia also demanding more than its fair share of my time in rest and recuperation. For some reason, this has to be through mindless tasks where I don’t have to think, like video games or sleep. Writing seriously (for profit!) doesn’t qualify as restful even though I wish it did; it qualifies as a second job.
- My job feels like a soul-sucking dead end chained to a desk (not even a full cubicle!) by a phone cord, and my creativity has been drained and underfed by the demands of being an introvert who is attempting to deliver pleasant customer service for hours upon hours every day. When I do have the time (the easiest thing to get on my ‘need this in order to write’ list; energy and anything resembling creativity are a lot harder to come by), I find myself staring at the blank page for a long and useless stretch. Or worse, I end up scribbling profanities and expressing the desire to die in a way that would make the goths from my late 1990s high school proud. I THINK I can still count this as writing practice… but it’s not going to generate any income or publicity for me.
- In spite of thinking that I had everything under control, but perhaps not surprising given the emotionally draining nature of my job, it would seem that my anxiety/panic attacks are back. And with a side helping of severe depression, of course. I’m not doing well right now. I’ve been waking up every day in flight-or-fight mode, but there’s nothing to fight and nowhere I can run. This high-adrenaline limbo is taking a serious toll on both my mental and physical health, and I’m not sure how much longer I can last before something breaks somewhere. It’s not helping the fibromyalgia, that’s for sure. Nothing triggers a chronic condition like stress.
I’m working hard to overcome the last one, because it is the worst of the three. Nothing is as awful as being stuck in flight-or-fight mode and not being able to go either way. It affects EVERYTHING about a person’s life.
That being said, I still think I’m going to take advantage of what’s left of my weekend today. I have a bit of yard work to do, and then, if I’m not too terribly shaky still, I may attempt a trip to the bookstore cafe to sit and write something besides death and profanities….
Wish me health and luck and good thoughts/prayers if you can. I really need them all right now in doses I can’t make happen alone.
❤ ❤ ❤
(And PS- if you haven’t yet bought my book, that could help me out a little too! Share it with your friends/family/etc. as well! Okay, shameless plug over now. 😛 I love you all. )
Okay, so I got way too busy and stressed with this needing-to-job-hunt thing to reach my goal for Camp Nanowrimo’s July session.
November is coming. And more than that:
So I’ve discovered the flaw in Spoon Theory, especially for those of us who only have two or three spoons to spend every day to begin with. The problem with Spoon Theory is that society in general insists on your spoons for the day being spent in a certain way, not necessarily on the things that you deem important to personal growth, stability, and happiness.
Things that have taken up my spoons lately: (more…)