Weekly Update: Ugh...

So when we last left off, I had posted about my experience with Nick Gibson. Life has been interesting since then. I've had people question why I kept talking to him when he couldn't further my career (implying that if he could further my career, I should have put up with it) and I even saw one person calling it a revenge post and possible cyber-bullying. All I can do is shake my head. I wrote the post as a warning to others and since then, I sleep with my doors locked. Yes, I'm afraid of retaliation. After all, he called the police on a friend of mine who vocally criticized him and his actions.

But, I want to move past that. It's just one piece of my life and I don't want to live within it. I said my piece and I'll "happily" talk about it if asked, but my life is continuing onward and I need to move with it. Tomorrow, my book is officially released and I'm full of nerves and excitement. I love this book and I really hope that others do too. I really want for it to do well.

On top of that, the Kickstarter is still running. We need about $1200 to fund and there's 11 days left. I know that it's possible, but it gets nerve wracking. With all of this, I'm amazed that I sleep at night. I do though...even if it takes me a while to fall asleep. I think the cats know because over the past week or so, one of more of them will come to bed with me and curl up where I can reach them to pet them. They can be royal pains, but I love them.

Let's see...what else...I'm busy with work which is good. I'm behind on a client's book which isn't good but I'm hopeful that I can catch up and have it back to him tomorrow. Yep, tomorrow...in the middle of the book launch...Ahh well, you have to do what you have to do sometimes.

I guess that's it. I had a million thoughts before I sat down and then they scattered. I think there's just so much going on this week that I'm having trouble keeping up with myself. I'll get through this though and come out the other side. I may be sweating and clutching desperately at a pen but I'll make it through.

Weekly Update: It's Better Now

As I write this, I'm struggling with a headache, but I'm in decent spirits. Last week, some grand folks made sure that I had some food for Thanksgiving and the day or so after. Roger came over on Friday and I took him to go shopping for his siblings. Time with my boys is always sure to boost my mood.

Other than that, not much has changed. Money is still crazy tight and I have about $20 to get me to the 19th for groceries. It's rough but I'm hanging in there. I'm more concerned with how I'm going to feed the boys if they come over than I am about how to feed myself. I guess I should look up some instapot recipes that are inexpensive but filling. Teenage boys can eat a lot!

The other big concern is that Dylan has never been in the house and Roger would also like to have Molly come over for Christmas. While the house is better, it's still not outside people ready. I only have two weeks until the boys are off for holiday break from school so I don't have a lot of time to dilly dally. I've started doing little things here and there as I can, but I'm concerned I won't have the house ready in time. All I can do is try though...and hope my energy levels keep up. Since I'm exhausted at 5:30pm, it's questionable but I'm going to try. It's all I can do.

For those who have asked how you can help me this holiday season, the best way would be funds to buy groceries and maybe some gifts for the kids for Christmas. My paypal is close2midnight@gmail.com ...Please don't feel as if you need to though. I'm a survivor and this isn't going to be what breaks me.

Until next week!

#MeToo

For a couple of weeks now, I've been feeling called to write this post, but I kept putting it off because I was afraid. I was afraid not only what people would think, but also of what it may do to my own mental health. After a week away and time spent with "the man", I had a bit of a revelation as I was driving home...one that had me in tears, but tears that were washing away the last ugly remains of a terrible thing. Tears that left me thankful for the man I have in my life now who helps give me the strength to be brave and to be bold, to tell my story, to stop hiding, and to show the world my amazing. What's to come is my story...and it isn't fun and it isn't pretty and if things like physical abuse and rape are going to harm you, please stop reading. Please put your own health first. What's next is raw, but it's me...

I don't think that I've ever really talked about this. I'm 99% sure that I've never written about this. Up until this point, I couldn't handle the reliving of what happened to me, but the time has come and I'm thankful for those who have helped in my healing. Please forgive me if this is a rough start because how do you tell the world that you were raped and it left you damaged for years? I guess just like that.

I was raped and this is my story.

About three months before my 30th birthday, my marriage was officially over. I have given ten years to it and lost myself in the process. In the year or so before it happened, I had discovered internet radio and became a dj and even a station manager. I loved it. I felt as if I'd found a community where nobody knew and I could just be fun and happy, even if it was pretend a lot of the time. Not long after my divorce, I met a man named Larry through internet radio. Yes, that's his real name. There is no one innocent here to protect.

We became close and through him, I started dj'ing at a BDSM radio station. It was tied to a popular club and the people all seemed really great. Like I said before, I'd lost myself in my marriage and during this time, I was lost and when Larry showed an interest in becoming a dom to me (if you need more information about BDSM, please don't hesitate to ask/educate yourself), it sounded perfect. He could help guide me as I made my way through a very confusing time of my life. He was willing to help me make decisions, no matter how big or how small. People seemed to like him and after months of talking to him, I felt safe and like he was someone I could trust.

After a lot of talking, we decided that I would fly to where he was and spend my 30th birthday with him. For some reason, I always knew 30 would be a tough age to turn and with what felt like my failure lying all around me, I was thrilled to be spending that weekend with someone who could distract me and that I could have some fun with.

When all flights out of Chicago got cancelled due to a tornado, I should have taken it as a sign and gone home. I didn't though because he kept encouraging me not to give up and that if I ended up at another airport, he would come and get me. So, I hung in there and ended up landing at another much larger airport and sure enough, he was right there to greet me. By the time we got back to his place, I was ready to fall asleep, but he had other ideas. He wanted to give me birthday spankings. The idea amused me and I was curious about the physical side of BDSM, so I went along with it. Except, he didn't spank me. He took a wooden paddle to my bare ass and hit me hard with it 32 times. Then, 10 more because I'd corrected him on my age.

Then, he proceeded to turn me facing the wall and started touching me. I was okay with this at first. After all, I had known we would probably have sex if I went there. Except, he wasn't touching me to turn me on. He was touching me to turn himself on. Then, with no warning, he anally raped me. I'm not going to go into the details. We all know what anal sex is and we all know what rape is. Combine the two and that's what I experienced. Then, he pulled me close, told me how much he cared about me and went to sleep.

I laid there until exhaustion took over. The next morning, I was confused. He was acting as if nothing bad had happened. I knew I hadn't imagined it. I had been to the bathroom to see the black and blue welts covering my backside and to clean up the blood that would happen every time I went to the bathroom for the next week. Emotionally though, I was lost. Was this normal? Was this how these type of relationships were? He did everything he could to reassure me that nothing bad had happened.

That night, I went into the bedroom first and was reading on the bed wearing my pajamas. He came in and removed them from me, reminding me that he had told me that his rule was no clothing in bed, none at all. He then proceeded to hit me with the paddle again, right where he had the night before. This time though, when he forced me down onto my stomach, I went non-responsive. I completely disassociated from what was happening. I was in the air looking down as this man did what he wanted to my body. When he didn't get the reaction he wanted from me, he pushed me over to the side of the bed, turned away from me and went to sleep. The next morning I actually apologized.

I would love to say that I never saw him again, but it would be a lie. I flew out there again the following month. This time, he not only raped me again, but also starved me the entire weekend. I didn't go back again. Not long after that, I was approached by the manager of the radio station to ask if he'd ever mistreated me because others were coming forward and accusing him of rape, of keeping them hostage until he was done with them, and other things. One girl, he would wait until she took medication that put her to sleep and then rape her while she was out of it. No charges were ever pressed against him by any of us.

Why? I don't know. For me, it took me a long time to come to terms with what he had done to me, how he'd used me, taken advantage of me, and then took away the one thing that I had felt I had control over in my life. For the others? Perhaps there was a fear of having to tell officials about the lifestyle and the belief that they wouldn't be believed.

I don't think I've spoken to this man in about 11 years. Not long after the second event, he got married to one of the women that he'd been screwing around with. From everything I saw posted, she enjoyed being treated how he had treated others. As for me, I had friends who flat out forbid me from having contact with this man. It's taken me twelve years, but that's my story. Writing it all out has left me feeling sick, but I know that this is the final step in closing that door forever.

It's taken me a very long time to feel as if I could freely trust anyone with my body again, but I've found that. I have been blessed to have found partners who have treated me with the love and respect that I deserve. I now have an incredible man who without knowing has helped heal some of the worst of it and has helped me to be braver and bolder than I thought I'd ever be able to be again.

I know there are people that mock the #MeToo movement and who have said some horrible things about the women who have spoken up. That hurts me because I'm one of those women, especially once I post this. Remember...all of us deserve love. All of us deserve respect. We may not always agree, but we're all human and deserve to be treated with decency. Treat each other with kindness and compassion. The stories are real. The people are real and sometimes the names have been changed to protect the innocent. Not this time, but sometimes.

Safe Places Are Hard To Find

If you're someone who has social anxiety, depression, anxiety, PTSD, been raped and any other number of things that leaves you needing a safe place sometimes, you also know that sometimes it can be really hard to find them.

Over the years, I've had a few different ones ...my friend Dave's house in Vermont, until he got married and now it wasn't just him there. My friend Rob's place in Canada...until he had to deal with some life stuff of his own. I could list more but even just with two, you get the idea. Except, I'm going to list one more because really this last one is what this post is all about.

Now stick with me here...I know what I'm about to say is going to sound...well, crazy...but I promise you that it isn't. Comic conventions. Comic conventions have been my safe place for years. They're often filled with people that I know, like, and respect. Some of them I'd even consider to be friends. They're also full of strangers, but usually strangers who love the same things that I love and sometimes, I feel safe in a space full of people I don't know. Because of the nature of the event, I can get lost in a crowd. There's no pressure to be "on" or "happy" or anything. I can just be. If I need a break, I can find a corner and sit and watch the people. I love to watch people.

Over the years, I've met a lot of people at shows. Some I've enjoyed, some I've been glad to avoid later. That's just the way of life and personalities. Unfortunately, one of those that I've met and enjoyed has been revealed to be a rather horrible human being.  It's come out that he's treated women rather horribly. He's pressured them into doing things that they didn't really want to do. He's used his position within not only a place that he used to work, but also his position within the industry to lure women in and then mistreat them. I don't mean that he beat them, but sometimes the scars of emotional abuse and sexual misconduct (not the right phrase, but this is so hard to write that I can't let myself get hung up on phrasing right now) outlast bruises and broken bones.

As a woman, learning of his behavior upset me. It ought to upset everyone. But, under all of that was a feeling of deep unease and I've had a tough time figuring out why until last night. I was reading through a post written by someone calling out this man and supporting the art crew that had been working with him on a very popular title. The art crew chose to walk away from the book because they refuse to reward his heinous behavior. I applaud them for that and their actions led to the post I was reading. The more that I read, the more I found myself feeling uneasy, unhappy, and I hate to use the word...but triggered.

It got to the point where I had to shut down my laptop and step away. It took me a while, but I finally figured out what was causing it. I've known this man from the convention circuit for as long as I've known him. Conventions were/are a safe place and now he might be there. Granted, I'm not the type of woman that has ever had a real problem with sexual harassment or come ons...I'm just not the skinny, beautiful type. I've never had a problem with him approaching me this way and I doubt I ever would. Still, now that I know what's lurking in the dark, it's made me edgy whenever I think about the one that I'm supposed to go to in March. I was looking forward to possibly seeing him there. I was excited about going. I was insanely excited. Now? Now, I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what's in the shadows. I'm afraid knowing that I'll be traveling in and out of the area every day on a lightrail for an hour. Before, I was excited for that very same travel. It's always been a place to people watch and to meet new people.

My reality is that he's made a safe place feel not so safe. My reality is that I don't know if I want to go now. My brain has gone into "What if..." mode.  An event that I was so excited and proud (I was awarded a pro level badge this year which is a huge deal to me.) to be attending now has me wondering if anyone would notice if I just stayed home. I'm sad. I'm sad for me. I'm sad for every single woman that he has ever been in contact with. I'm sad for the industry because he's left another dark mark on what's beautiful.

Do you know what else I am? I'm angry. I'm angry that he's done this to me and to others. I'm angry that a grown ass man doesn't know that this is beyond wrong. I'm angry that I'm feeling as vulnerable and weak as I am. Anger is good. Anger is cleansing. Anger keeps me moving forward when I want to hide under the blankets.

I'm also proud. I'm proud of the woman who stood up and told her story. I don't know that I ever have. I'm proud of the industry professionals who have said no more. We will not tolerate this in our midst. I'm proud of the store where a lot of this story took place because they've declared that not only will they no longer stock anything that he's worked on, they're working with this woman to build policies so that nothing like this ever happens again. I'm proud of "my people".  Those are the people that I'm going to be looking towards as I work towards this trip because those are the people that I want to be around.

Dental Health Matters

Why Dental Health Matters

I'm pretty sure that I've talked about my anxiety issues here, but if I haven't, I have some anxiety issues. These stem a lot from my PTSD...yesterday, I realized just how bad it's affecting me.

Due to a variety of reasons, I haven't seen a dentist for any real dental care in approximately 17 years. Over the past half a dozen years, I've started losing teeth. Still, I didn't seek out a dentist.  A lot of that has to do with having zero dental insurance and knowing that I had no way to pay for any dental work. The rest has to do with my anxiety. I had to have a lot of dental work done when I was younger and most of it wasn't pleasant. I've developed a very real anxiety when it comes to dentists.

Still, 2018 is the year about being brave so after some serious anxiety attacks, I made the appointment. Yesterday afternoon, I drove the 20 minutes to their office. I fought back tears and panic the entire drive. The hygienist was nice, but before I even got to see the dentist, I was in tears. The entire thing felt completely overwhelming. When the dentist actually came in, they sat behind my head and went over the x-rays as if I wasn't there. He poked around my mouth some, gave her some notes, and then left. I think he told me to have a nice day but I don't remember. I was too wound up by that point. I know that he never introduced himself to me or anything.

The rundown? The TL;DR?

• My insurance will only cover: routine cleanings, extractions, fillings, and partial dentures.
• They will not cover: root canals, bridges, crowns, or deep cleanings...or even Nitrous.

I need:

• 5-6 extractions (most of these are broken stubs of teeth)
• 11-12 fillings
• Debridement
• Normal cleaning
• Root scaling/planing (also known as deep cleaning)
• Antibiotics to fight an infection
• Prescription toothpaste to help try to strengthen the remaining teeth. ($22)
• Nitrous Oxide to help calm me down. ($23/visit)

 Everything except that last one and the toothpaste will be covered by my insurance. The deep cleaning? That one will cost about $610. $610 that I really don't have but if I don't have this procedure done, my oral health will just continue to to get worse and I risk losing more teeth.

All of this is extremely stressful and when added to my anxiety, I ended up in my car afterwards having a complete breakdown. It was bad enough that the friend who called me suggested that I contact my doctor's office to see if they would prescribe me something that I can take before I have to go in for my next appointment. I don't know how many appointments this will take...I have 2 currently scheduled and that's just the start. I'm scared spitless so I guess it's just as well that the toothpaste has the added bonus of making me drool.

As for my weight, etc? Well, I got started on Monday and did well Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday and yesterday were all about anxiety and stress so I didn't do as well. I'm trying to get back on the horse today. I made a smoothie for breakfast and took my meds and then brushed my teeth with that god awful extra minty toothpaste (I hate mint toothpaste!). My water intake is slow but it's all I'm drinking and I have hopes of getting in my 64 oz before bed tonight. I even bought a scale yesterday!

The numbers?

Starting Weight: 314.4 lbs
Current Weight: 313.8 lbs
Change in Weight: -.8 lbs

It's a lot. It's overwhelming, especially when you add it to the rest of my life, but I've started the ball rolling so now I just have to keep it going.

Impostor Syndrome

Image Courtesy of iamwire.com

Do you know about impostor syndrome? Impostor syndrome is a belief that you’re an inadequate and incompetent failure, even though evidence shows that you’re skilled and quite successful. It's something that every single one of us suffers from at one point or another. It's something that I'm dealing with right now when it comes to my writing.

I have a couple of friends who text me multiple times a week to ask me a question about writing, editing, or even publishing. For the life of me, I cannot figure out why they'd ask me. What do I know about it? Someone recently pointed out that I'd helped write 2 novels, wrote a filler novella length "journal" and all three of them are available in print and e-book formats on Amazon. Even then, I shrugged and said, "Yeah, well that was mostly Nick. He wrote the original books and he did all the work to get them up on Amazon."  It doesn't seem to matter that it was pointed out that I did a ton of work on the books to correct and improve things or how much time I've put in studying how to properly do these things. I just can't seem to feel like anything but a fraud when it comes to my writing and what I do/don't know. 

So, what do you do when you're struggling with this? According to The Muse, there are some steps that we can all take. I'm going to post them here, but please click the link above if you'd like more information on any of them.

• Identify what's shaking your confidence.
• Tell someone about it.
• Remind yourself of your achievements.
• Remind yourself that you didn't get to where you are on accident. 
• I tweaked this one since for me my impostor syndrome isn't specifically related to a job.
• Take a risk and keep going.
• Take a look at your language and update it. 
• Write down your story as if it's an introductory bio for someone to read.
• Mentor someone else.
• Know that impostor syndrome is actually a sign that you're doing something right.

What's shaking my confidence? The fact that I haven't written a single word on book 3 in about 6 weeks. That's a really long time and it's gotten to the point where I've become afraid I'll never be able to find the words again. Somehow telling all of you about this helps. I've been living under this cloud of guilt and impostor syndrome and telling you lifted some of that weight off of my shoulders. 

That's steps 1 and 2. I guess answering texts is a bit like mentoring people, right? I'm going to add another step that isn't listed above. Breathe. Don't be afraid to stop and take a few deep breathes. It's so easy to get overwhelmed. Now, I think I'll get brave and open that file....even if I don't write a single word, it's a step in the right direction...

My Brain Feels Full

Image Courtesy of RD.com

I'm going to warn y'all that it's late on a Sunday night and I haven't had near enough sleep for probably the past couple of weeks. This could turn into the most ridiculous, rambling post ever or it could turn out okay. Nobody will know until I write it and y'all read it. So...here we go.

My brain feels full and I might know why. A few weeks ago something happened that has become life changing for me. I'm not good with life changing but this is a change that has to happen because to stay in the situation would be beyond toxic for me. Still, my instinct is to just stay put. I'm fighting with myself which means that nothing is getting done. I haven't written a word in that time. I've started and stopped numerous house projects. None of them have been completed. I look around the house and I'm frustrated to see things half done or things that were half done are now more like a quarter done.

My brain feels full and yet under the exhaustion and "stuffed brain", there's this tiny, flickering flame that says, "It's okay. You can do it. Just pick something and do it. It's not going to be easy, but you can do this." I want to listen to that voice but I think there's also a fear. If I finish the project that I really and truly should finish, it will mean that life changing thing happens. It means that what feels like my one "solid" connection to someone I care deeply about will be severed. It means taking huge steps of faith...faith in myself. It means me doing more than telling a few people that I can do this. It means actually doing it. It means trusting in myself enough to conquer my fears or at least face them.

I know that it's why I flit from project to project around here, never finishing any of them. I know it's why I even start other projects when I know what I should be doing. I'm procrastinating facing my fears and trying to move past them. Tomorrow is my only day this week where I don't have to go anywhere and will I work on the project? No. Instead, I'm going to finish another half finished project. I'm going to do my weekly Monday work. Then, I'm going to take some deep breathes and look at the upcoming calendar. I need to try to formulate some kind of plan. Maybe if I break it down into "unscary" chunks, I can start taking those steps.

For now though, I'm hoping that I can balance my emotional self. I feel almost like an onion with all its layers (No, I'm not an ogre, I promise!). On the surface, I feel almost manic and that really won't help right now. I'm already sleep deprived. Under that is a solid level of anxiety, then depression, and somewhere deep down, there is a tiny germ of excitement. I need to peel back those layers and find my way to the excitement and make that work for me.  I know that what's coming is a lot of work but the theory is that I'm smart and capable and the only thing standing in my way.  I need to learn to put all of the garbage into a trash can and out to the curb so that I can take those steps forward.

I can do this. One tiny step at a time, one tiny project at a time, I can do this. If you feel stuck and like your brain is full, I know that you can do the thing you need to do too. It's hard but not impossible. Deep breathes and small steps and we'll get there.

"Silly" Anxieties..

This afternoon, I'm going to get a haircut. Big deal, right? Nope...well, yes, it kind of is to me and I don't know why. It took me a couple of hours to open up the website and to set the walk in time. Now, I have about two hours until I have to leave and I'm back and forth about keeping the appointment. Why? Because the idea of going in and having my hair cut for the first time in over two years is freaking me out.

"What if they cut it too short? What if I don't like it? What if "he" doesn't like it? He likes it long and I've kept it long for him."

That's all followed by:

"Hair grows back and it will probably grow back healthier. The he that you're thinking of just told you that he doesn't want to even see pictures of you so who cares what he thinks. It's your head, your hair, and you're the one who has to deal with it. Did he ask you before he got his cut? No and he didn't really care what you thought about it. You need to do this for you. You deserve a bit of pampering. He deserves a kick in the ass."

The one voice in my head is often pretty damned straight forward and I can always count on it to tell it how it is, even if it can be a bit on the mean side. In some ways, I'm very thankful that it's there. It helps to cut through the bullshit that the rest of my brain is creating sometimes.

Does this mean that I won't be anxious as all get out driving there, parking, walking in, and telling the girl, "I have no idea what I want, just wash it and make it look pretty." I've been assured that it's okay to do that and that they'll be excited to just be able to do their thing.

Why am I sharing all of this with you? Because we all have these "silly" anxieties and it helps to know that you're not alone and I'm not alone. This week has been an especially hard one for me with a lot of things breaking or breaking down in my world. I know that's part of the problem. Still, I can take a lot of deep breaths and get through it. I remind myself that each moment is a chance to start the day over.

So, if you're having an anxiety attack over something that seems silly to you, don't let that negativity build into the anxiety. It's okay to feel anxious over some little thing. Just know that you'll get through it and come out the other side.

Being Brave is Hard

Last week, I wrote a post about where I am right now. In it, I mentioned that it was almost a summary of a few posts that would be coming. This is the first of those posts.

Most of you probably didn't see my 2018 goals post over on Life With Katie. In it, I put Be Brave as one of my goals. That may seem silly. Brave is something you are, not something you do, right? Wrong. This isn't the soldier on the battlefield kind of brave..no wait, it kind of is. Every day is a battle for some people. So, let me try that again. This isn't "accidental" or subconscious bravery. This isn't the kind where you just do it. I'm talking about the kind of brave that is a conscious decision...and that, my friends, is the kind of brave that is hard and exhausting.

Let me give you an example:
Things between me and the man are a bit odd right now. I have my suspicions as to why and I'm not going to share them here. The problem is that when things go a bit wonky in this relationship, it's insanely hard for me. My PTSD kicks in and it's incredibly easy for me to start to spiral to a very bad

place. I spent a day in a very bad place. Then, I decided that I had to get brave. I had chosen it for a goal and now was the perfect time to practice that. After all, if you practice something enough, it becomes habit and wouldn't life be easier if decisions became second nature and not always such a conscious thing?

So, the next morning, I took a lot of deep breathes, cried some more tears, and then I made a list of what I wanted to get done by the end of the month. Then, I started with the little things...I ordered my son's birthday gift, I sent out things that needed to be sent... at the end of the day, I had a decent sized list of things that I had gotten myself to do.

And then I slept for two days...

Yep. For the following two days, all I did was sleep. Forcing myself to be productive instead of curling up in a ball took every bit of energy that I had. Then, I had to convince myself that it was okay and that I didn't need to beat myself up that the list wasn't progressing and that instead, I was thinking of more things to add to it. I had to remind myself that if I pushed too hard, too fast, I'd be useless and useless isn't something you can be when you have children who need you. So, I slept when my body said sleep and I did when I had to do. Now, it's a new week and I'm making that same decision...to be brave, even though I know what it might lead to.

If I'm not brave, if I just give into the anxiety and the fears, I won't be who I want to be. I have to fight, even if it's through choosing my battles and even if things take longer than a month. I didn't get to where I'm at overnight and I won't get away from it overnight either.

So, to all of you who are struggling right now...it's okay. You're not alone. Try to find a way to be a little bit brave each day. Maybe that's just putting on pants, or eating breakfast, or sending out that email that you know that you should. It doesn't have to be huge, it just has to be something. I know what it will tire you out. That's okay too. Take the time that you need to recover. Be kind to yourself. I know just how easy it is to beat yourself up until you're curled up in a ball. Life is hard, but somewhere, deep down inside all of us is a little bit of brave.