Am I Okay?

 The truth is ...I don't know. That seems so dumb to say. I don't know if I'm okay. If my doctor were to ask me, I'd say, "Yep, everything is going fine." and it wouldn't be a lie. On the surface, everything is. I ran a successful Kickstarter, did the work to get everything made, and fulfilled it an entire month early. I moved two of the boys into their first apartments and I'm proud that I raised independent men. I made a new friend and we've gotten together a couple of times...So, on the surface everything looks good.

But then you look under the surface...

Now that fulfillment is over, I struggle to be proud of the work that I did. I look at it and go, "Yep, it's a book." There's a tiny voice that says, "a book that you wrote. You did that." I don't know how often I listen to that voice. 

My boys, well two of them, are moved in and I'm horribly sad about that. I miss them and even though they've both called me, I know that this is the final step of them being their own people and not needing me the same way ever again.

I did make a new friend and I really like him, but it's so hard to make plans with him. I tried all weekend. On Friday he was recovering from a migraine. Yesterday he was hanging out and helping a friend with pc builds and today they're roadtripping across the state to get pc parts that they need. Don't get me wrong, this is all totally acceptable and I'm not upset with him. I just can't ignore that little voice that says maybe he doesn't like you and want to get together again. Logic says this is stupid. We enjoy each other's company. Ugly little voices are hard to ignore though.

Then let's get down to the nitty gritty. If I'm okay would it have been over a month since I did laundry? Would it have been just as long since I showered? Would my hair be a tangled knot? Would my house look like an episode of Hoarders (how I wish I joked) with stuff just thrown everywhere? Would I struggle to do something as basic as take my medication? Would I look at the most basic of tasks and think why bother, nobody cares?

Guys, I don't think I'm okay and I don't know how to fix me. I don't know how to be okay. I want to be. I want to walk into a house that doesn't make me want to scream. I want to be able to do the simplest of tasks without it being a struggle. 

I'd love to say that I don't know when this all started, but I do. It all started with "the man". He had a major health scare and I found out about it on Facebook three days later. Three long days after he blocked communication with me. Three months later and I'm still blocked. He doesn't answer texts and my Facebook messages don't go through to him. I know that our relationship wasn't the healthiest for me but I honestly believed that he loved me. Then that was ripped away because someone who loves you wouldn't do that to you, right? I miss him. I miss what we had when we first got together. I miss being told I'm beautiful and believing it. I miss all of it. 

I want to believe that I'm beautiful and brilliant and brave/bold, but I don't. At my last doctor's visit, my A1C was up and I'd gained a pound instead of losing one. I wanted to believe that it was okay, that I could do better, but I don't. I feel like I'm incompetent and unable to take care of myself. I sleep constantly and only get done what has to. I have tiny victories, but they don't mean anything and they don't last.

So to answer the question...No, I'm not okay and I don't know if I ever will be again. 

Weekly Update: God What a Week

God, what a week. Monday was okay, I guess...Well, no, it wasn't. On Monday, we realized that we didn't think Mittens was eating. We couldn't be 100% sure though. On Tuesday, when I couldn't coax her to eat wet food or tuna, I knew we had a problem and I called the vet. They were booked, but the vet herself called me back around 7pm that night. She offered to leave out antibiotics or I could bring her in the following morning. My gut said to take her in, so I did. I haven't really told anyone what happened and I know this is going to make me cry, but ...

When we got there, the assistant directed me to take her and wait under the gazebo. They don't allow humans inside the practice right now. A few minutes later, the vet came out and took her back to take her temperature. Just a few minutes passed before she came out and told me that Mittens had lost over half her body weight since they'd seen her just two years before. I knew she'd lost weight, but she's always been so dainty that I didn't realize it was that bad. She told me we could do blood tests, iv fluids, but there was only one or two things that she may recover from and she'd have to be treated for the rest of her life. I asked if we gave her fluids (she was severely dehydrated), how long before we'd know if they were helping. The vet told me that if I was planning on putting her to sleep if they didn't work, she'd rather I just do it then instead of having Mittens last day being poked and prodded. I knew then that there was no hope...my heart shattered when I told the vet that that's what we should do. She went in, gave her the shot, and then brought her back to me in her carrier. We sat there under the gazebo, the wind blowing softly, and her head bumping my hand for loves right until she passed. The vet came out and wrapped her in a baby blanket before taking her away. I went to my car and tried not to sob while it took both assistants to figure out how to bring me the flea meds that I needed for the other cats. Then, I went to Dairy Queen, got a cherry slush and cried my way back home.

That afternoon or maybe it was Thursday, a friend approached me about what had happened on a webshow that I'm often part of (or was..I suspect that's very over). He didn't know how to handle it and was super sweet about not wanting to bother me with it, but as we're both in the same line of work, it affected me too. My brain was mush from grief but I felt as if I had to make a stand. I posted a long post to Facebook that basically boiled down to "If you're an asshole, I won't work with you." I never called out anyone, said anything about the webshow or any of its hosts. It really wasn't about them. It was about me. It was about my career. It was about standing up for what's right. Hate groups, no matter the direction of the hate, aren't right. If you know me, you know hate isn't even in my vocabulary. It's an alien concept to me. I can't understand why anyone would hate anyone just because they're different.

I wish it had ended there. It didn't. People commented, mostly in support. One or two seemed thinly veiled but I let them go. I got private messages. One was from the guy who runs the network the webshow is on. He asked who had pushed me to write what I wrote. I told him it didn't matter, that I'd said what I'd said and I'd stand by it. I did tell him that there was some concern with one of their hosts. He defended the host. His choice. At this point, I was already unable to focus, half unable to form sentences due to the loss of Mittens and the ugliness that was rearing its head. I was leaning heavily on a couple of friends who were seeing what was happening.

I announced that I was slowly going to bring back Geek-o-Rama, a site that I've ran for over 8 years and got a not even slightly veiled slap out at me. It hurt. I won't lie. I had people who I considered friends turn on me. Why? Because I said I wouldn't work with assholes. If you don't know, there are a lot of assholes in the comics community. Some belong to a group called Comicsgate. I won't get into their details, but they're a hate group. Some who belong...well, it makes no sense, but they're like lambs to the slaughter or something.

Anyway, it was too much for me. I was crying constantly. I was angry. I was exhausted. Then, Friday night, just when I was praying it was all over and I was going to go to bed, a bat started swooping around my living room. I opened the door to let it out and two of my cats ran out. It was midnight. I couldn't find them in the dark. Hell, I was on my front porch in a tank top and underwear trying to get them back in. I finally did go put pants on. After 90 minutes, I managed to get both cats inside and locked up in the bathroom. I said fuck it to the bat and went to bed, shutting the 3rd cat with me in my bedroom. A few hours later, I woke up to find one of the bathroom cats laying on me. My door appeared to be shut. I honestly thought I had snapped, that I had lost my mind. I kept looking at him, looking at the door, trying not to freak out...and after a few minutes got up, realized my door was not latched, went downstairs to go to the bathroom and discovered the other two sitting on the table. Somehow they'd managed to open the bathroom door and then my bedroom door.

Yesterday, I woke up with a splitting headache and spent most of the day curled up in bed, sleeping. There was some more crap, but honestly, at this point, I don't even remember because it was three solid days of ugly. Ugly people...I kept thinking of Caliban and how he used to talk about how people would throw shit at you. Today, I still slept quite a bit but I'm happy to say that the headache is gone. I did have a run in with stupid though. Nick Gibson unblocked me so that he could refund me the $15 that I spent on his Kickstarter (see previous post about trouble in the industry). When I told him that I didn't accept money through Facebook, he told me too bad and that now me and my cronies could stop harassing him. The word cronies was quite the hit when I posted the screenshot. People wanted to know how they could become a crony. So much so that it's spawned a Facebook group for fans of me. I couldn't help but laugh at that one. While there are some serious assholes in the industry, there are just as many amazing people.

Now, I'm days behind because of all of this..and I probably still need a good and proper cry. I forgot to mention that DHS determined that I make too much money to get less than $200/mo in food stamps. I made $7600 in 9 months. It's insane and one more level of stress to deal with, but since they only work 9am-3pm, it'll have to be dealt with another day.

Right now, I need a good cuddle in the man's arms and a chance to unwind...since the first won't be coming for god knows how long, I'll just have to put in another movie and try to relax...

Weekly Update: Ups and Downs

I wanted to come in here today and tell you that everything is alright, but it's not and I don't want to lie to you or to myself. Things aren't okay. I go outside of the house and it's easy to pretend that they are. I guess having years of experience has paid off. I talk with people and nobody knows that as soon as I'm alone again, it will all come crashing down.

I've cried so much this week. Most of the time I didn't even know why. I find it harder and harder to hold back when I see something that bothers me. Facebook is really hard because I need to not lose it there. I can't call people fucking morons when those are the words in my head. I've posted a couple of posts that were rawer than usual and it's been okay, but there's a difference between people wanting you to be honest with how you're feeling and you putting it right there in their faces. If I can't reign it in, I'm on a crash course to having no career. Sometimes I just have to close my laptop and watch tv...but nothing I need to invest in because I can't pay attention for that long. My show of choice lately has been Law and Order: SVU. It's an hour with a lot of brain breaks (commercials) in there.

Last night was hard. Yesterday was hard for no discernible reason other than my brain hates me...and it's always a little bit worse at night when you're more alone and it's harder to hide from your demons. I came across (by accident) a podcast done by Nick Gibson, the man who had harassed me, who had lied to me. I told myself to leave it alone, but I couldn't. I watched all 42 minutes of it. I screamed at my phone at the lies that he told, at the compliments that the host gave him. When he said that he had intentionally not send out my replacement book and shrugged it off, I stared in shock. I kept telling myself to turn it off, even when I started to cry, but I couldn't. It broke me, but not because of him.

In the grand scheme of my life, he's a nobody. In the comics community, he's less than nobody, no matter what he claims. People aren't flocking to him to buy his books or to tell him how great he is. I've seen his social media. He's invisible. His only true fan is himself and I doubt that he's even that. I doubt he loves himself. So often we treat others the way we have been treated or even how we treat ourselves. Often, it's the way we want to be treated, but I think it's far more one of the first two for him. It's sad really that he's never been shown the proper way to treat people and when he was, he lashed out and abused that.

I've written here before about my rape. I've mentioned my parents and their behavior. When I'm depressed, demons appear that I thought were long gone. This whole thing with Nick was like the key to Pandora's box. It opened it up and suddenly I've been dealing with things that ought to be done and over with. I feel incredibly fragile, as if I could break at any moment. I long for someone to just hold me and tell me that it will be okay, but there's nobody here to do that. I'm on my own. Some have tried to reach out to me and I so appreciate that. In those moments, I feel stronger. I feel as if this won't swallow me whole. They're the reason that I'm not in bed, but instead am on the couch writing this post.

I may be in tears, but I'm still here...

Weekly Update: Monday again?

For whatever reason, I lost track of what day it was and could have sworn that today was Sunday. Turns out that I was wrong...ahh well...I guess that's what happens when your daily routine is so...routine.

I don't really have any grand updates for today. Work is going well. I have 4 books on my desk right now. I'll finish one of them tomorrow. I'm really glad that people are coming to me with their work. I love what I do, even when it's hard for my brain to do it. It's also allowed for me to have a bit more financial freedom. I've been able to keep gas in my car and even splurge by going out for breakfast once in a while. This past weekend it allowed me to buy 9 books from a series that I love and have wanted to own since I was a child. When the owner offered to sell them to me at below what she could get, I wanted to hug her.

Next week, my book comes out and I have to admit that I'm nervous. What if nobody buys it? I so hope that people buy it. I put so much of myself into it. It means so much to me as a writer and as a mom. I've already said I'll have the next book out by December, but it's going to drag me down if this one doesn't sell. I'm not expecting best seller, but I have a dream of selling 100 copies. The ebook is available on pre-order now. I need to remember to order the author copies that I want to give to my illustrator and a few other people. I wish I could give one to Rob, but he's still not talking to me. It still hurts, a year later, that I lost my best friend. I think of him constantly. All I can do though is keep moving forward the best that I can.

Speaking of moving forward, the kickstarter is edging closer to funded. It still has a long ways to go and I'm nervous that it won't fund. Nick takes it so personally when they don't. I need to come up with some creative ways to spread the word and hopefully get some more eyes on it. I'm not really good at that sort of thing, but I do need to try. Tristan and the gang are like my own characters. I've been with them so long and their story deserves to be told. I already pledged so I hope others do too.

All of this promoting, combined with the weather, and who knows what else still has me totally exhausted. I sleep for at least 12 hours and then often take a 3 hour nap. It's frustrating and I wish I knew why I was bone tired all the dang time. I have no energy for anything. There's lots to do but I'm just not doing it. I'm forcing myself to do a podcast here in a bit to try to promote some more. Did I mention that I'm not good at promoting? I do it because Nick doesn't do podcasts and neither does Veronica so far as I can tell. I somehow became the mouthpiece for the group. Plus, nobody else is promoting my book so someone has to do it.

I guess that's it for this week. I did notice that the number of folks reading here has dropped and that makes me the tiniest bit sad but I'm so thankful to those of you who come back week after week to check in with me and see what's up. Please feel free to reach out to me at any time and take care of yourselves.

Weekly Update: Another Day at Home

Just when I think I'm handling all of this well, something happens that reminds me that I'm more sensitive right now to certain things than I might be otherwise. Yesterday, I popped into a friend's livestream. Nothing exciting there, right? Well, this is a friend who I'd been trying to have a one on one video chat with for a few days and he was always too busy to do it. Then, when I joked in the chat that I had been hoping to have that chat with him, he pointed out (to everyone) that this was a chat and it didn't always have to be about one on one and I was selfish. Now, he was joking. I knew he was joking, but it still hurt enough that I was in tears. I knew I was being sensitive and yet, maybe, at the same time, he was being insensitive. He talked about how if anyone needed something just like what I'd asked for, just to let him know. How come then he wasn't making it happen for me? I dunno. I don't want to dwell too much on it. It's probably best to just move on. Still though, it did show me that I'm lonelier than I realized and missing human connection.

I haven't seen "the man" since August and with everything that's going on, there's no knowing when we'll see each other again. With the stress of everything, he's gone quieter than usual and that's wearing a bit on me too. I'm not upset with him, just missing him tons. Our anniversary is coming up in July and it's looking less and less like we'll spend it together. I want us to be safe but man, this sucks.

One thing that doesn't suck are my kids. This weekend, at least for one night, I'll have them both here. It's so tough with everyone's schedule, but Roger will be finished with exams and Ben has a four day weekend off from work. I'll be picking Ben up on Thursday and then Roger on Saturday. I don't know if Dillon will come. I thought he was going to fit in with our family, but he doesn't seem to have much interest. That's his choice but I had hoped for something different.

So, I'll have the kids and that's something I'm looking forward to. I want to do a bit more house tidying before they get here. I'm really proud of what I have done, but I need to go back to former rooms and do maintenance. I don't know if I'll get much past there because I've had quite a few client jobs come in and I need to focus on those. I'm really thankful that I'm still working. So many folks aren't. Still, another stimulus isn't something I'd say no to. Money disappears quickly when you're feeding more than just yourself.

Now, that's a lot of paragraphs about me. How are all of you doing? Are you hanging in there? What good has happened for you during all of this? Please don't hesitate to leave a comment or reach out. After all, we're all in this together.

Weekly Update: New Laptop

Happy Monday, everyone! We made it through another week. Not a lot new here except for the device I'm tapping away on this morning. After dealing with a slower than slow and often not responding laptop, I took the income from two projects and bought myself a brand new laptop. It's an Acer Aspire and so far, so good. I'm sure I'll find things that I haven't thought to install on it but so far, I'm just enjoying the speed that I can get things done.

Let's see...as far as house cleaning goes, I have two small areas in the bathroom to do. I had missed them when I created my to do list. I also have a few things to do in the laundry room. I've been waiting for the trash company to bring me a new trash can which they still haven't done. I'm tired of putting it off and since Roger is here with me this week, I can have him haul the bags out to the curb. It's not ideal, but it'll be done.

Next on the house cleaning list is the living room. It's a total tip. The biggest problem is books. There are so many books in this room and nowhere to put them. I can't put them anywhere else in the house because the shelves are all full. I know I should/could purge some of them, but that doesn't help much because the library is closed so I can't put them on the free shelf. Someone suggested stocking the little free libraries but we don't have one here in the village. I could put them in a box on the front porch and just say free...but I'm not in love with the idea of people wandering up to the house. I guess this is something still to brainstorm.

Other than that, not much has been happening. Well, we did move Roger out of his dorm on Friday. By we, I mean me, his girlfriend, and him. His dad and stepmom couldn't be bothered to help. Oh well, it gave me more time with them which is nice. Plus, it's one of those things that he'll remember. I've tried telling his dad about those moments, but his dad doesn't feel like it matters. Ahh well. His loss.

So, all in all, things are going okay here. My spirits are good today which is nice because I was down there for a bit. It's always easier when I'm not here alone. I know a lot of you are feeling that right now. It sucks. This whole thing is taking its toll on all of us. Hang in there though. It won't last forever and we'll come out of this stronger than ever. I believe in us, even on the rough days.

Until next week...

Weekly (Monthly) Update: Holy Wow...

Gah! Just when I think life is balancing out, there's a global pandemic. I handled the first week or so well. Roger was here and we were finding our new normal. I suppose maybe I ought to back up. Roger, for those who don't know, is my youngest and a college student at Michigan State. The school decided to go to online courses and to send as many students home as possible. For 24 hours, I had Ben and Dylan here. Then, they went to my ex-husband's house and I picked up Roger from college. I really like having him here. At the end of a week though, he decided to go over to his dad's as well with the plan of coming back here in a week.

Well, as of today, that plan is on hold. The governor issued a stay home order. We're allowed to go out to get groceries and things like that, but otherwise, we're to stay put for the next three weeks. You'd think that wouldn't phase me because I normally spend stretches of time like that alone, but it's made me anxious as all get out. I can feel a depression hovering around me. I just want to nap all day. I know I'm not the only one feeling like this.

So, what's a girl to do? Well, I made a list of 5 tasks to get done every day. I decided to tackle my laundry room. It's not in a bad shape, but it could use a bit of a face lift. The litter boxes need changing, shelves need to be wiped down...little things like that. I've broken them down over the week. Next week, I'll make a similar list but the room of focus will be the bathroom. That room needs a good scrub down. Since we're in this situation for three weeks, I'll have to decide which room will come after that. Maybe the living room...or I'll start working my way into "the wall" (aka my studio). I haven't decided yet. Thinking that far ahead freaks me out a bit. One day at a time right now.

Will my list work? It's hard to say but it gives me a focus. I also have client work which once I get started doing holds my attention for as long as I work on it. I guess I need to try to make life as normal as possible right now. One day at a time, one minute at a time, whatever it takes. I'll be doing livestreams on Facebook once a week, I think. Just something to connect with other people. None of us are alone in any of this and it's important for us to remember this.

Take care of yourselves and each other. Stay home. The sooner we all do this, the sooner we can all get together for a huge social dinner...or something...

Much love to everyone out there.

Weekly Update: Chaos

Holy crow, guys...this week has been crazy. Actually, the past 5 days or so. It started on Friday when I stopped at the mailbox to pick up the mail and discovered a notice from the county about past taxes being due and language such as foreclosure and forfeitsure. Since I rent, this sent me into a tizzy. Of course, it was Friday night and Monday was President's Day so nobody could be reached until this morning. Thankfully, the owners had also received a notification and are paying off the bill. They assured me that they won't sell the house out from under me and I can have it for at least a couple more years if I'd like. That's a huge relief. I can focus on downsizing and dehoarding instead of worrying.

As if that wasn't stressful enough though, last night Ben had a basketball game about an hour away. While we were there, it started snowing and by the time I left to head home, the roads were horrible. I was white knuckle driving the entire way home. A chunk of the trip is on the freeway and while we were going slow for the freeway (about 45mph), that didn't stop me from sliding right off when I tapped my break because the person in front of me slowed down. I got lucky. I didn't hit one of the drop offs or a guard rail. I managed to come to a stop just onto the grass and after a few very deep breathes and a small pep talk, I pulled back onto the road. I've rarely been so happy to see my driveway and hear the gps say welcome home in my life.

I could use a few days of low key. It's a busy week though with attending basketball games with Ben and then him, Dylan, and I are driving to South Bend on Saturday to watch Roger perform at Notre Dame with his jazz orchestra. It should be fun, but teenagers can be seriously challenging at times. I'm hoping this isn't one of those times...heh...

Once I get back, it's a bit more basketball while trying to prep to attend C2E2 in Chicago at the end of the week. I have a packing list and I'm slowly trying to collect things up, but it's going to be a hectic week of trying to get the usual things done and prep work. It's been a number of years since I attended this huge event, and I know that my body isn't ready for it, but I'm going to give it a shot anyway. It's much easier to network if I leave the house sometimes.

In news of other note, I've upped my medication to a full dosage from the half dose that I've been on for the past six months or so. It was time and I think that it's only due to that increase that I haven't had a complete meltdown over everything. In fact, I've stayed relatively calm (for me anyway) and not spiraled. I'll take it.

Now, I'm off to build a small Lego cat as a reward for writing my posts and being a good girl. Have a great week!

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!

Weekly Update: NaNo!

I can't believe that it's November again. A year ago, I was shivering in my car waiting for Roger to get out of sax lessons. Today I was talking to him about college and how he has a concert on Friday. (Note to self: Don't forget to get your ticket!) A lot has changed over the past year. I've changed over the past year.

NaNo has not changed over the past year. It's still 50,000 words in 30 days. What's changed for me is my focus. A week ago, my focu was to finish Nevermore, the novel that I started writing nearly two years ago. Yesterday, on day 3 of NaNo, I finished it. That's right. After nearly 2 years, I finished writing my very first novel. That's pretty huge, right?

It was a moment of excitement and the sadness as I realized that I couldn't share that with the man. It was the first thing that I wanted to do. I messaged him, but he was too busy to open messages and so, in the end, I posted it to Instagram and shared it to Facebook. Some people on Facebook liked the post which made me feel good, but really what I wanted was a celebration. I wanted people to comment acknowledging how big of a deal this was to me. Nobody really did, but maybe they don't realize just how huge this is.

But, I did it. The girl who they said would never be anything or do anything wrote a novel all by herself and damn it, I'm proud of that. I'm going to say it again... I wrote a book and damn it, I'm proud of that. I did it. Me.

Now that it's done and off to be double checked before revisions, I'm going to be working on writing some children's stories. I used to love telling the boys stories at bedtime and who knows, maybe someday they'll read these stories to my grandkids. No time soon though! We'll let others read them first.

For now though, it's time to flip the laundry and take some deep breaths because life can be overwhelming sometimes.

PS Two weeks of a period is two weeks too many...talk about overwhelming!

Pause the Music

Credit to Nick Gibson for today's title inspiration.

I have a lot of thoughts in my head and would you believe that they're all good and I'm smiling? Weird, huh? I'm not complaining though.

I saw my doctor on Friday and I'm happy to report that we're both doing well. She had a workout accident a while back but is healing nicely. Me? My blood pressure tracking pleased her and seeing me happy and thriving put a huge smile on her face.

I don't think I realized that I'd stopped thriving, but was merely surviving. Heck, just surviving was a nice feeling. Actually thriving (thank you god for those who created this medication that I'm on now) has me over the moon and insanely productive. My sleep schedule has shifted to more match that of those around me. I'm asleep by 11 and up by 6:30-7:30 am. I'm getting up, getting dressed, eating, and knocking out project after project. It's spectacular.

I don't know if I wrote last week about being back in my bedroom, but that's been a wonderful change too. After a week or so of that, I'm finally adjusting to sleeping in there. The cats have laid claim to their sleeping spots and none of us are crunched up, unless they choose to be (Mac likes to sleep up against my legs). My room isn't completely dehoarded, but I would say that it's at least halfway there and I'm thinking that maybe within a week, it will be totally done. Then, I need to convince the youngest to come home from college for a few hours to help me get the dresser inside and upstairs to my room. I can't move it by myself and my doctor told me to not even try.

Normally, all of these changes would freak me out, but instead, I'm celebrating them and I'm celebrating me for getting them done. Thanks to my editing work, I've been able to make some payments on outstanding bills and I'm hoping that by the end of the year, those will be taken care of which will put me in a better financial place for the upcoming year.

I've found myself stopping more...Pausing the music in my head...to enjoy other things. I'm slowly reading more. I'm playing games. I'm taking pictures of raindrops on spider webs. I'm doing more of the things that I love that slipped by the wayside. Mostly? I'm enjoying being me. It's pretty awesome.

That's it for this week. I'm off to Life With Katie to write my weekly writing prompt post. If you like recipes, reviews, writing, please pop over and check it out. I have a giveaway starting there tomorrow.

Until next week....take care of yourselves, my little chickadees!

Dipping and Birthdays

Okay, it isn't my birthday. Not until tomorrow. However, it's really affecting me today. You see, I guess at some point, I stopped feeling loved or cared about and my birthday was a solid reflection of that. After my divorce, nobody paid any attention to it really. Well, that's not true. I had one friend who did. I guess I started seeing my birthday as some kind of indicator of whether or not I deserved to remain on this planet.  I can't believe I'm writing about this. I don't think I've ever fully told anyone why my birthday matters so much to me...

Anyway, some years were bad...for my 30th, I was raped by someone I trusted. For my 35th, someone threw a birthday party for me that nobody showed up to. Others were pretty good...one year, I got three or four cards and half a dozen presents. That was a really good year. I felt so loved. This year? Well, my birthday is tomorrow and there have been no cards or gifts that have arrived.

In years past, this would have been an issue for me starting a week to two weeks before my birthday. I'd have been checking the mail box every day, even checking my Amazon wish list to see if anything had been bought. This year, I made it to two days ago for the mail box and today for the depression. That's progress, but it's still hard. Part of me screams...I just want to be loved. Why can't you show me that you care? A card would cost as little as $1.50 to buy and send, aren't I worth your time? Blah.

Social media hurts in these situations. People post about their birthdays...the dinners, the cakes, the cards, the presents...and it hurts. People also post to my wall and feel like that's enough. It's nice, especially if we aren't close, but it's not the same as knowing that someone took the time to make a real effort. Ugh. I just flipped to Facebook to answer a message and what do I see? Someone's birthday with dinner out, balloons, cake, and presents. See? That's just what I mean. I'm happy for the person, but it's like a stab in the heart to me.

I know, deep down, that I shouldn't take one day and use it as a determining factor of my worth. I know that I shouldn't, but still, there's that piece of me...that really mean voice...that tells me that nobody loves me, they love what I can do for them, for how I can make them feel, but that they don't love me. I hate that voice. She's a bitch. She's just plain mean.

So, today, I'm sad. I'm next to in tears sad and it's not really anybody's fault. It's this whole birthday thing. I wish I could hate birthdays but I don't. I love them. I love celebrating the days that my favorite people joined the world on this planet. Somehow, I even love mine. That makes zero sense, but it's true. Maybe it's the part of me that's happy to be alive. I'm not really sure. I'm not really sure that this post makes any amount of sense, but here it is...Love to all who are struggling...

Am I going crazy?

No cute graphic. Just me. Raw. Crying. Wondering if I'm losing my mind.

Last night, I sent a message to "the man" after I saw a picture that he'd posted on Instagram. His response was, "huh?" and then nothing because he'd fallen asleep. This morning I asked him why he'd deleted the picture and he told me that there had never been a picture. Except I saw it. I swear I saw it. I can describe it. He was in bed, shirtless, with his glasses on. He was holding the book that he was reading, but it was closed and you could read the cover. It was similar to the one that's still on his Instagram from the night before. He swears there was never a picture.

So, that means one of two things...either I completely hallucinated it or he's fucking with me to make me feel as if I'm going crazy. I can't imagine a single reason that he would do the second thing. We were just together last week and we're good, we're solid. Which means...it really never existed. He thinks I'm overthinking the entire thing and that it was just a blip. Who the hell blips like that? Only crazy people.

Yesterday was a normal day. I worked in the morning and then cleaned some stuff out of the car. I went and picked up all 3 boys and we went to Kalamazoo. We dropped off Roger's sax for repairs, stopped by the comic shop so I could get a friend's latest issue, dropped Roger off at his lesson and then the other two and I went and had pie. After, we got gas, picked up Roger, and drove back, stopping to do a couple of errands. It was decided that everyone would go swimming at Roger's girlfriend's parents house so I left the younger two to get ready and Ben and I drove to my place so I could get my swimsuit. While here, I grabbed the mail which included stupid shit from DHS requiring me to jump through more hoops. I tried not to think about it much, but not knowing if you're going to be able to eat next week weighs on you.

We went, we swam, we had pizza, and I drove Ben back to his dad's because the other two were going to hang out longer. I used the bathroom there, changed clothes, and headed home. That's when everything went...weird...

I remember thinking about the DHS notice and thinking that I'd probably have to get some sort of job outside of the house and that's all I remember...at least for a while...at some point, I "came to" and felt completely disoriented. I kept thinking it feels like I'm driving back to Hastings instead of to my house. I couldn't tell you where I was and it freaked me out. It was before I got to Woodland. I know that because I kind of remember going through Woodland and stopping at the stop sign at the bottom of the road there. I remember rolling up the passenger side window and thinking that I have to focus, I have to focus...

I don't remember the rest of the drive. I remember pulling up to my driveway and counting the number of cars that were next door...7...and then pulling into the driveway.  I remember looking at my phone, which has become habit, and seeing that he'd posted a picture and looking at it and then sending him the message. It's all kind of fuzzy...I came in the house and sat down on the couch. I remember changing from my jeans to my leggings without standing up from the couch. I watched Big Brother from the dvr but I don't really remember much about it. Then, I went to sleep...

I'm scared. I have to work 20 hours a week/$600 a month to retain any kind of food stamps but just thinking about it sends me into a panic. I could get some sort of doctor's note, but I don't know that they'd write me one and I don't want to sound crazy. I don't want to be crazy. I'm completely not functional ever since he told me that there never was a second photo. I've tried to work but I can't stop thinking about it, I can't stop freaking out. I just want to curl up, hide, disappear, something. I don't know. I just know that I'm scared...what if I'm going crazy?

On Death and Dying

Image from: http://wisdomquotes.com/

I would love to say that this past week outshone the week before that what with cars breaking down and black licorice taffy, but sadly, that isn't the case. The reality is that it's been such a rollercoaster that a part of me is screaming, "Please just let me off. I can't do this anymore."

I don't tell you that to scare you, but to be real with myself and with anyone who reads this. It's been a really rough week...and as the mechanic told me last Monday, "But, honey, it's only Monday."

Let's backtrack just a little bit. I want to tell you about my friend, Laura. Just over a week ago, I got a call from one of the few people on this planet that I trust with my everything. It sounds a bit odd to say that since before this call, I hadn't heard his voice in probably five years, but it's true. Anyway, it wasn't a happy call...he called to tell me that Laura had died. In that moment, I think I went numb and into some sort of denial. It wasn't possible. She was 53. She was this amazing, incredible woman who was loved by so many. Writing this now, almost two weeks later, the tears are finally there and I can't stop them.

Going to her funeral was only reliant on one thing..if the friend mentioned above would let me stay at his place. Once that was set, I move heaven and earth to get there. Of course, my car broke down on the way and there was a bit of drama trying to get it fixed/get a rental car, but I got there. The funeral, as far as funerals go, was lovely. The room was packed and I couldn't help but look around and wonder if anyone would come to mine if I died. Compared to this woman, I've done nothing with my life. What would they have to talk about in my death?

I came back home just two days ...not even two days really...after getting there. I left with mixed feelings: sadness over Laura, fear that it'd be another six years until I was back "home" again, a desire to prove myself to the world, and a need to see my children. Since then, I've pushed and pushed trying to be even a quarter of the woman she was. I've taken the youngest to rehearsal, attended his senior breakfast, took both boys for one last immunization, had lunch with an author friend who amazes me constantly with his skills and talents, worked on projects for clients...do you all see where this is heading?

At no point have I taken a moment to mourn or grieve or even breathe. Tonight though, I can't stop the tears. I can't stop the sobs that wrack my body. It's good that I'm alone because if I were with someone else, I'd try hard to be strong for them. I'd shove it all down. I wouldn't be able to say what I'm about to put here...

I feel guilty for being alive. The world needs Lauras. They need those amazing hearts matched with strength and determination. The outpouring of love and the number of people in that room showed that. I live in fear that when I die I will die forgotten. There will be nobody to even put together a funeral, let alone people who will travel from all over to share their stories of me or to help comfort those who grieve.

I want this post to have a happy ending. After all, that's what I do, right? I write these posts about my struggles but I always end them with some little ray of hope, some thought that keeps me going. Tonight, I don't have one of those. All I can think is...why me? Why am I still here but she isn't? The world needs Lauras.

Life is Fragile and Absurd

As usual, I've been meaning to write this post for a week, but things kept happening and I kept trying to process them but none of it ever made it here. This post is one big wrap up, I think, but we'll see where it goes.

Let's start with last week...

On Wednesday, I did the usual thing of taking the kid 90 minutes to his lesson and then jazz orchestra rehearsal. On the drive there, we didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, but on the way back was a different story. The car was vibrating loudly from the back and of course, not being mechanics, we had no idea why, but we agreed it was probably bad. Once I dropped Roger off, it started making a series of new sounds so I decided to take it to our "shady" mechanic the next morning. Thursday dawned bright and early and I headed in once I realized that the power was now out at the house for an undetermined amount of time. Except, I didn't get very far. Three miles from home, the car jerked and started making a very loud ka-thump ka-thump noise. I figured this was probably bad so I pulled over. I got out, saw that I still had four tires and all and got back in the car. I started it again and pulled away going maybe ten miles an hour...the ka-thump was so loud that I didn't go even a block before I pulled right back over. A friend called the shop where the owner said he hadn't had a mechanic since January. January?!? What?!? After a small meltdown, we agreed that I should have the car towed to the town I had to go to for Jazz Fest. Did I mention that it was day 1 of Jazz Fest and my youngest would be performing with 2 of his bands for the last time that day? Yeah... Anyway, we managed to find a shop who said they'd look at it, I got to ride in a super high tow truck for 20 miles, got the car dropped off and headed down to Jazz Fest. Did I mention that the shop was now going to "try to get an estimate done" that day. Oy! On the way down to the venue, I stopped at the General Store, thinking they sell General Store type items. Nope. Wrong. They sell...fru fru crafty stuff. Not cell phone chargers which I now knew I was going to need. Scratch that. They did try to sell me a car charger. I'm sure you can imagine my expression at this offer. No car, folks. They did offer me a taffy from their bowl on the counter and after getting to the venue, I eagerly unwrapped it. After all, something good had to happen, right? Wrong. I bit down...into black licorice flavored taffy! Then I tried to wash away the flavor with strawberry lemonade! Ugh! Yep. No winning there. Fast forward to the end of the day and I get word that my car did make it to get an estimate, but wouldn't be done before noon the next day. No worries, I could book a hotel room, right? Nope. Wrong. There are only two hotels and both were booked. My choices? Sleep on a bench in the park or call the ex-husband to see if I could sleep in my oldest kid's room since he was away to school. After much dramatic sighing (by him), he agreed and I spent the evening hanging out with my youngest.

The rest of the weekend wasn't too bad. I got my car back, got to listen to some great jazz, took some pictures of the youngest and his beautiful girlfriend before prom, and then spent Sunday recovering. There was drama, but other than one small breakdown, I weathered it. I'm kind of proud of myself for that.

This week hasn't been too terrible. I've managed to complete one major project and get a lot crossed off on my to do list. My youngest is off in Anaheim at the national competition for Business Professionals of America and I got to pick my oldest up from school yesterday and I'm spending some time hanging out with him. I miss the time I used to have with my boys, but I'm proud of the young men that they've become.

There was one real tragedy from this week though and it's one that I'm still trying to process. On Tuesday, one of my closest friends asked me if I had time for a call. I don't remember the last time we actually spoke on the phone because he's in Canada so it's an expensive call and our schedules don't often match up. I said absolutely because I miss him tons. Unfortunately, it wasn't a happy call. He called to tell me that a mutual friend had died. Part of me is still in shock. Like he said, she was our age and had been taking care of her health. It's terrifying.

So, it's been very much a mixed week and a near constant roller coaster of emotions. I'm a bit tired, but I'm pushing through. I'll be doing a whirlwind trip to Canada to attend her funeral...god, I don't know if there are enough Kleenex on the planet right now...and then back home to try to survive the last few weeks of my youngest's high school career. Final band concert, senior breakfast, awards night, commencement and then his open house. I'm not ready. I'm not even going to pretend that I am.

But, like always, I will keep trying to push forward the best ways that I know how....

And also, as always, take care of yourselves and each other. There is no greater gift on this planet than love.

Riding the Edge

Link to book below post.

It's been a while. I know. Maybe I'm writing just to myself. It's possible and that's okay. I'm here today because I need to be here. I need to lay everything out and maybe it will start coming together for me.

It's been about two weeks now since we dropped Ben off at school. I always knew that I'd be one of those moms who cried when she did that. I wasn't wrong. Walking away from him broke my heart. He was crying and trying to be so brave. We both knew it was the right decision, but in that moment, I think we both just wanted to go home. He has done really well though. I think the independence while knowing we're only a little ways away has been good for him.

Meanwhile, his brother is going through college auditions and about to turn 18 in just a couple of days. I'm struggling with that too. I so badly want for him to get into the school that he really wants. I want what I never had, a chance to follow his dreams.

Here at home things could be going better. The fridge broke last weekend and it's taken me a week to get it just about cleaned out. I have one more bag to go and it'll only be a small bag...like grocery bag size. The rest of the house is a total tip because I just can't seem to find the balance of home, work, kids, mental health, and everything else. I had a trip planned to a convention in March. I may have written about it. I was so proud to be granted a pro badge. Now, because of the fridge, I won't be going. The money for my plane ticket has to go to getting a fridge. I mean, we can't live on crackers and crunch n munch forever, right?

I keep trying to find the bright spots...like hey, now I really will be able to get a fresh start on food. Then, the voice pops into my head reminding me that my foodstamps were cut because of Ben working. For every positive voice, there are five negative ones drowning it out. Even my sense of humor that usually gets me through these spots is eerily quiet. Perhaps it's because I posted asking people to help and nobody answered. Meanwhile, the wife of one of my closest posted a $2000 fundraiser to get her dog's broken leg sorted and they've raised nearly $1500, I think. Look, I know I can live without a fridge and the pup's leg really needs to be cared for but it's the perfect thing for the negatives to latch onto. It's easy for them to say...hey look, you don't matter. Nobody wants to help you.

I look around and think how alone it makes me feel, that nobody will send me $5 but they'll send someone else art supplies so they can do a bullet journal. I don't know. I know I'm feeling sorry for myself and that it won't help anything, but I'm really struggling to shut it down. Do you know what's the worst part maybe? It's that voice...the one that sounds suspiciously like my mother...saying that I'm whining, that none of this matters, that my feelings don't matter, and that I'm being the weak, useless person that she always knew I was.

That's bullshit. It really is. I am stronger than she ever knew. I've gone through more than a lot and I've survived. I'm still surviving. Is it ideal? Hell no. It's pretty crappy actually, but I'm still here. So...here's the thing...I'm going to put this out there. I need to put it out somewhere...and here is as good as anywhere, perhaps better...because on some level, it's safe. Nobody will read this here.

I'm broke. Hell, I'm beyond broke. If it weren't for a good friend helping me out, I'd be sleeping on a park bench somewhere. The fridge broke and while it will get replaced, knowing that part of the hold up is the fact that my kitchen is beyond ugh is dragging me down. I can hear people saying, "Well why don't you just clean it up? Then you could have a new to you fridge and it'd be better." Except, it's ever quite that easy, is it? I've managed to slowly empty the fridge but every time I look at the dining alcove, I freeze. I can't seem to do a thing about it. Honestly, I could probably put a trash bag into the can (which is also busted, by the way), grab the snow shovel, and just shovel it all away...and weep with every scoop because all of that...it's like seeing a million failures right in front of my eyes. It's every negative screaming at me and it leaves me frozen. I had someone who was going to come help me, someone who tries very hard to understand, and doesn't judge me, but first it was car trouble, then weather...and so I'm on my own...and I'm afraid that my own just isn't good enough.

And only getting colder!

Then, there's the weather. Winter in Michigan can really suck but up until a week or so ago, it wasn't bad and I was really thankful for that. Why? The furnace decided to stop working. I can hear the voices again.. "Just call the landlord and get her to fix or replace it for you." Except...I can't. We all know that I can't. If I can't get strangers in to haul away a busted fridge and put a different one in because of the condition of things, there's no way that I can get someone who will report back to the landlord. To fix the furnace, the kitchen, living room, and laundry room have to be cleaned from top to bottom. It feels impossible...and we're about to go into a week of possibly record breaking cold. I have a small space heater and the oven running 24/7 when I'm home. Right now, it's 61 in here. I can live with that. This week? I don't know how cold it might get in here. I'll be having to go out quite a bit which is good and bad. Good because the car's heat works and I'll be going heated places. Bad because I'll have to turn everything off and the house temp drops fast. I've seen it drop 5-7 degrees in just a couple of hours.

I guess you can probably see where this is going right? I need money and I need it like yesterday. I don't have it because the reality is that with my mental health issues, I can't work outside of the house. I got a letter from DHS yesterday saying that I have to either start working 80 hours a month or volunteering 80 hours a month or taking some kind of classes. I do work. I proofread and edit books and stories for other people. I don't make $600/mo doing it though and that's how much I have to make to keep them off my back. I'm good at what I do and my clients are happy, but I don't have 20 comic clients putting out a book each month. Comics and books take time to create. As for my own books, I haven't received a single royalty payment in almost two years. I don't know if the books aren't selling at all or just not enough to bother sending me the change.

I've considered setting up a Patreon where for $5/mo, you could get early viewing on a story that will later go into an anthology. I'd do two different ones...one for children's stories and one for erotica. I have a Ko-Fi now. Actually, I've had it for months and months but not one single person has ever used it. I get it. People want to get something for their money, which is why I think maybe Patreon might be a better choice. I don't know that people would sign up there either though.

That wouldn't be enough, but it would be something. I talked to one of my clients today and he told me that he would have 5-10 books for me in 2019. At the rate he pays me, that's either not even one month or possibly 2.5 in an entire year. Clearly that won't work. I love his books and working with him and I'm not going to stop. I'm just saying that it isn't enough to get to where I need to be. I either need to be doing 4-6 books a month proofreading or some combination of things...proofreading novels, proofreading comics, Patreon, Ko-Fi...my own books starting to bring in some funds.

I do have a plan to take down my erotica stories that are also listed with the other ones in their series and then properly format the series and put those up on Amazon. There's no reason to have the individual smaller ones up by themselves. I'm planning on listing the series ones at 99c. They aren't long, more like a bedtime story but I hope worth the 99c. They won't make me millions but even $10/mo would help.

There is one other option and it's one that I'm going to have to do and hope that it goes well. I have the opportunity to apply for a ghostwriter's position. If I got it, I'd be writing mm romance/erotica of various types. It pays pretty well and with one thing would fix this problem. Here are the voices again, "If you knew it would solve this, why haven't you done it? Oh wait, because you're probably going to fail and then what?" Ugh. It's not just that. I could fail. I could fail and then still be screwed. Or, I could be decent at it, get hired, and then with my struggles to balance everything, it could end up being the only thing I do. 2019 was supposed to be the year of finally defeating the hoarding monster and setting myself up for success in 2020. Here we are, less than a month in, and that's already going out the window and I don't know what to do about it.

So, there you go...I'm riding the edge. I'm riding the edge of just wanting to give up and wanting to fight for what it is that I truly want. I'm riding the edge of do I fight for my dreams or do I continue to settle and make do with what I *have* to do.  I'm really tired of settling or making do with what I have. This isn't the life that I want for myself. I want to write and I want to be successful at it. I want to help other authors make their books be as good as they can be before they're sent out into the world. I love what I do and I want to keep doing it. I don't know how, but even if I do this ghostwriting thing...and I don't see how I can not do it...I need to keep finding me. I can't lose myself in the horror that is poverty.

I don't know if people will help me and support me. I don't know if they'll follow me on Patreon or donate to me on Ko-Fi. I don't know if they'll go and spend 99c on an erotica story. I don't know, if I get that far, if they'll back me on Kickstarter. I honestly don't know. I've been burned quite a bit by people who say they'll hire me and then don't or industry people who say they'll start sending business my way but then don't...or worse, keep it for themselves. I do know though that there are a lot of people out there and I don't need a million, or even a thousand. I need just enough to bring in maybe $1000/mo for now. Why $1000 and not $600? Because it's time to stop making just enough and time to start making enough that I can invest back in myself, in my home, and in my future.

$1000 = 34 comic book proofreadings
$1000 = 5 50k word book proofreadings
$1000 = 200 Patreon supporters
$1000 = 225,000 words proofread
$1000 = 334 cups of coffee purchased through Ko-Fi

That seems like an awful lot, doesn't it? It's not impossible though, especially if there was a small income from my writing coming in as well. I really, really, really want to get the erotica stuff already on Amazon updated. I desperately want to get Nevermore finished and sent off to Nick. I want to get my publishing house name chosen and Tales from the Toy Store written and published. I have dreams. I need to make them happen.

I hope that I have the support to make them happen. I hope that people will recommend me when they hear of someone looking. I hope that when editor/proofreader friends have overflow, they'll send
it to me. I hope that people will enjoy my writing and be willing to buy it. I have a lot of hope and at the end of the day, that's really darned important.

Today, though I feel as if I'm standing on a crumbling foundation, though it'd be so easy to just quit, I'm choosing hope and I hope (see what I did there?) that all of you will stick with me through this never ending journey of ups and downs. It's a rocky path, but it's a path. If by some small chance you want to buy a book or buy me a cup of coffee to help keep me going, I've added links above. If not, that's okay. I just hope that you got something out of me doing a total brain/emotion dump out here. I know this post was really for me, but I always hope that there's someone out there who reads it and says, "Hey, yeah, I get this and maybe for this minute, I, too, can choose hope."

The book in the image above was found via a random Google image search and something about it spoke to me. It appears to be out of print, but if you're interested in learning more about it, check out its Amazon page.

Merry Christmas?

Merry Christmas? Happy holidays?

I find it fairly fascinating as to which posts get any attention and which don't. Maybe one day I'll stop and figure out why it is how it is. Not today though.

Today is Christmas day and I'm sitting on my couch, surrounded by chaos, and completely alone. There were no presents to open, no special breakfast. Just me and ....well, nothing. Just me. Just me and it's hard.

The boys aren't here. They weren't here yesterday either. All of our traditions ...well, none of them happened. I've tried to be brave. I've tried to convince myself that it's okay. After all, they'll be here tonight. My brain and heart keep screaming, "But it's not the same!" I can't really argue because they're right. It's not the same. We don't do Christmas pjs anymore. We don't read 'Twas the Night Before Christmas. Those are gone the way of the dodo. Now, they're practically grown up and those things seem silly to them. Work schedules kept them from being here last night so our Christmas Eve traditions...the few that were left...didn't happen. Work schedules will keep them from being here until past dinner tonight.

I feel as if I'm whining. I mean, there are worse things in the world, right? Nobody has died. They're getting spoiled at their father's house. Is this just me feeling sorry for myself? I'm always afraid of that. I'm afraid to tell anyone that I'm really struggling seeing all of the happy family pictures and amazing gifts that other people have. I'm afraid that they'll tell me I'm selfish for wanting someone to send me a present...something wrapped up and picked our just for me. It's happened before when I said that I had been checking the mailbox for cards and gifts. I was told that if I want something I should just go out and buy it.

That's not the same though, is it? Besides I don't have money to buy for myself. Every penny that I had went to getting things for the boys, sending out holiday cards to put smiles on other people's faces, and buying things like cat food and toilet paper. Is it so wrong of me to want/need to feel loved today?

I see all of the memes about reaching out to people today to make sure they're okay. Nobody has asked if I'm okay and why would they? They know that I'm most likely not and who wants to bring down their fun, special times with someone who is currently sitting on their couch crying because nobody went to Walmart and bought a $5 Lego pack and mailed it to her?

I'm trying to put on a brave face. I'm saying Merry Christmas and all of that. I'm liking people's photos because I really, truly am happy that they're having wonderful family and love filled days. It's not that I'm not happy for them. I am. I'm just also really, really sad for me. I just feel so very, very alone. No presents, no holiday breakfast, or special dinner...no friends invited me to join them. Hell, not even what remains of my family. In fact, I've had gifts here for my sister and her children for over a year.  There's been no effort made in that time.

Today I realize why so many people kill themselves at the holidays. That feeling of alone seeps deep into you and twists everything. No matter what I do, I can't seem to shake it. Somewhere a part of me knows that people care. The other voice is louder though. It's the one screaming, "If they cared so much, why hasn't your phone rang? Why has nobody texted? Why did nobody invite you over? Why didn't you have one single thing to open this morning?"

Still, that other voice is in there and I'm holding tight to it. I'm holding tight to the knowledge that in 8 hours or so, my living room will be filled with the chaos of wrapping paper and the sounds of my boys as they look through what they got this year. I'm holding on, even though it's hard, and going to go nuke a couple of hot dogs for lunch. Festive, no? Merry Christmas.

Fighting to Keep Fighting

Guys, I'm tired. No, it's more than that. I'm done. I'm out of whatever it is that keeps us going. Today it took everything I had to get out of bed, to go to the bathroom, and to nuke a frozen pizza. I wish that were an exaggeration and maybe it is since I'm sitting here writing and that has to take something too.

It's been a long time since I went from "Yeah, I'm doing okay." to "I am the most worthless human being on the planet." in the space of maybe an hour, but that's just what's happened.

Yesterday, when I left my house, I was proud of myself. I'd gotten quite a bit of work done on a project for a client, I'd shaved my face (thanks pcos) and my armpits, I'd put on deodorant, gotten dressed, brushed my teeth, fed the outside cat, brought the trash can back up to the house...I'd done all of that. I was proud of me.  I picked up my oldest, we stopped into the dollar store, and then on to the high school basketball games.

We sat through the first two games and my oldest got up to go say hi to some friends and was stopped by a teacher. I don't know the exact conversation but it basically boiled down to how the teacher had noticed we hadn't paid to get in and while it was okay for my son not to pay, it wasn't okay for me. I got the impression that it wasn't said nicely. Honestly, it was an accidental oversight. While he was in school, we never paid to get into the games. He was the team manager/filmographer and since he's handicapped and needs a ride everywhere, they always just let me in for free too. Out of habit, we came in the way we always had and they don't have a ticket seller at that entrance. My son was upset which made me upset. Still, I tried to keep it together because if I don't, he doesn't.

From there, it went downhill. I discovered that my front headlight is burnt out. I'm sure it's just the bulb. Then, as I was driving home after dropping my son off, and realizing that there's no way I can afford to have it replaced right now and now I'm super anxious because I could get pulled over and there's even less of a way for me to pay for a ticket, I realized that my insurance is coming out on Friday and I'm $101 short. With the chaos of this month, it just completely went out of my head to make sure that I had enough money in the account. I had the money in another account and used it to pick up some extra items that we needed. I just didn't remember.

I felt stupid and stupid led to feeling like a failure which led to feeling pointless. It's not that I don't try, but I never succeed. I want to be better, but I just keep failing. I swear I'm trying and it's been better, I think...or I thought. Now, because of this one thing, I just don't know. I feel like I've failed everyone. I can't seem to handle the basics of life sometimes..most of the time...How can I ever hope to get to the point where I'm off welfare and have a sustainable lifestyle if I can't even remember to brush my teeth every day?

I cried myself to sleep last night and today all I can do is sit here and cry. I've failed again. I've let myself and everyone down because I couldn't remember something so simple as making sure I had the funds to pay a bill that I have to pay every single month. There's more but there's no point in spewing it out here. I'm sorry for being such a failure at life....

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.