Bonus Post: Birthday Anxiety

My birthday is in five days and I laid in bed this morning and cried over it. Why? Well, the basic reason is that I'm sure "the man" won't remember until Facebook reminds him and even then, he won't do anything more than text me Happy Birthday.

The deeper reason goes back a lot further. Some of you may know that my mother was abusive. I don't remember when it started, but I know that by the time I was in middle school, it was happening. She would get upset about something and scream at me. She would scream that she wished I'd never been born, that I ruined her life. Quite often this would come along with her slapping me repeatedly. Over the years, that has stuck with me like sap clinging to a pine tree.

So, ever year, when September rolls around, I start hearing her voice in my head. Except the message has changed slightly.  Now it's that nobody cares that I was born. Nobody cares enough to even go to the dollar store to get me a card and mail it out. It's not about the money, it's about the effort. Nobody loves me enough to make any effort.

People will point out how many Facebook comments I get that day wishing me a happy birthday. My brain will kick in and say, "Sure, but those take zero effort. You leave them for people all the time and it takes about two seconds of your life." To those people I'll smile and say "Yes, isn't it wonderful? So many people care."

It's getting better, I guess. It used to be the entire month. Last year it was the ten days leading up to my birthday. This year I made it to five days before my birthday. Except the next five days will be hell for me. I'll have a desperate urge to go and check the mailbox, even though I know there's nothing there. I'll look for UPS shipping notifications even though I know nobody has sent anything.

My birthday will be the worst because, in my head, it will be the day that yet again it is confirmed that I don't matter enough to anyone, not even the man I've been in a relationship with for five years, to make even the smallest of efforts. One year I received something like three cards and a friend had a cake delivered. It was the most amazing year, but the next year was a hard crash when none of those same people did it again. Still, for that one year, I felt loved and special and it was wonderful.

I've mentioned my birthday once or twice on Facebook, mostly because it sort of snuck up on me. I guess that's improvement. I've not shared an Amazon wish list even once (nobody has asked for one either). I've not posted any sort of countdown. I'm sure that people got tired of me mentioning it for an entire month...well, 23 days.

I've been asked if I have plans for my birthday and the answer is no. In the past, whenever I've made plans, the other people have cancelled them. Those were really tough blows for me and further proof to my brain that I didn't matter. I always hope someone will remember and invite me to visit or something, but that's never happened. I suppose I could buy myself a tiny cake and eat it, but doesn't that scream pathetic and nobody loves you?

No, it will be just another Wednesday. I'll be here, alone, working on a client's book. The only addition will be some tears as my mother's voice screams I told you so in my head.

When do you say goodbye?

I should be working. Instead, here I am again. I'm feeling really insecure today and I know why, no matter how much I want to ignore it. It's "the man." We've been together for over five years now. I've stood beside him as he fought for custody of his kids, decided if he wanted to stay married to his wife, and what feels like a thousand other things. I don't know though if he's stood by me. Honestly, I feel ignored and taken for granted. That's the problem when you love as hard as I do. People tend to figure out that you aren't going anywhere.

The first couple of years that we were together were great. We talked all the time either via text or email or sometimes both at the same time. At some point though, the emails stopped. Then, over time, the texts slowed down. He used to share ideas with me, send me pictures, and just be there whenever I needed him. I don't remember the last time he sent me a picture. I find out about his ideas via Facebook...and I don't remember the last time he told me that he loved me. He's never been one to say it frequently but I've never gone without being able to remember the last time. We used to fall asleep together, texting back and forth. Now he never texts me around that time unless it's every once in a great while to say goodnight. He used to always call me by a nickname that he had for me, now he never does. He used to tell me I'm beautiful, now he tells someone else.

It hurts. It hurts a lot. I realized that even when I ask him for something small...like a photo or a message, that he never does it. Twice in the past month he'd told me he'll send me photos "soon" or "soon enough." He hasn't.

The past few days he hasn't even responded to my texts really. I send him a lovely one yesterday morning and he ignored it. Last night, when he'd posted to Facebook that he was done writing, I sent him a message. His reponse? "Writing" ...except you just said you were done. I told him I'd leave him alone. I haven't messaged him since. He probably won't even notice if all day goes by and he doesn't hear from me.

It's so hard. When we're physically together, things are so good between us. We talk about things. When we're apart, I feel like he forgets about me.

Then, there's Rob. I'm so damn insecure with that. I don't know what he wants. I mean, he's made it kind of obvious that he wants to go back to how things were, but how can we? He destroyed me. Even today, when I told him that I'm feeling insecure, he didn't respond. I can't do that. I can't be intimate with someone who can't be there when I need someone to tell me that I'm wonderful and they love me. Of course as soon as I say he hasn't responded, he responds. Thirty seven minutes, but at least he knew he had to respond.

I don't know. The only thing that keeps me with "the man" is knowing how good we are together when we're together, but with covid, who knows when that might happen again. I just wish he'd tell me that he misses me at least. It's a stupid wish, but it's my wish. I could tell him that I need more from him, but I don't know what good it would do. He may just ignore that and then I'd feel even worse.

If I knew I had Rob to help balance things out, it'd be so much better. God, that sounds horrible, doesn't it? Except, in some ways, it really just is how I've come to work. I've long given up that I'll ever get married again. I don't know who could handle the semi-hoarding, the depression, the anxiety, all the time. I live with it and I annoy myself. Does that mean that deep down, locked away, there isn't a mad desire to have someone love me like that? Of course there is. All I've wanted my entire life is to be loved like that. I guess deep down I've never totally gotten over the idea that I don't deserve that.

Still, this past week it's become more and more clear to me what I want with Rob is the same thing that I wanted 15 months ago when all hell broke loose. It's not a "we're together when we're together" kind of thing, but a we're together because it makes us happy kind of thing. I want a partner...someone that is my safe spot, someone that I can do things with or do nothing with. I want not just a sexual partner, but an emotional one as well. I want someone who will tell me they love me and not just in the bedroom. I don't want to be a secret. I'm not saying we need to be "Facebook official" or even tell anyone about us, but if we're out, I want to be able to hold their hand. I want to sneak a kiss at the stoplight.

I don't want a husband. Not right now. I don't want to be physically with someone 24/7. I don't think it would be healthy for me or for another person. I'm not sure I can explain this properly, but I want to be with him when we can be, but when we're not, we're still okay and still us. We have lives of our own but those lives include each other. I don't need 24/7 communication, but I need open communication. I don't need to be "the" one, but I need to know that if someone else comes along, it won't mean that I'm kicked to the curb or left in the dark. Not again. I can't do that again.

In some ways, I've always seen us as two halves to a whole. We know each other and in the past, we were able to balance each other. Your soulmate doesn't have to be your lifemate. If we started with what we were before "the horror" but with what I thought we were when I last left him, that'd be amazing. If it moved on past that, well, that'd be what it'd be. I'm not going into anything with the hopes that it will turn into something more. I've spent too many years being alone and being told things could never be more in the relationships that I've been in. Like I said, I don't truly believe that I deserve that whole "happily ever after - white picket fences" thing. Most of the time I'm okay with that. I just want us to be okay, but okay together again.

Ugh. These are all things that I should just be telling him, but I'm afraid to. I'm afraid that he is going to tell me how he doesn't want another relationship after just ending such a toxic one. I mean, it's not like that's unreasonable, but we can't go back to what I thought we had before. I need more. I need reassurances. Most of all, I really need a freaking hug and to be told that it'll be all right.

Edit: Well, I asked him. I sent him a text asking what it was that he hoped for or wanted. His response? He doesn't know. He didn't know if I'd even answer him. He had just wanted to apologize and explain himself. He did that...August 31st. I guess after that it was just easy to fall into old habits...I think I'm going to go cry now and then fill out this paperwork that I forgot to do yesterday. It's better than hyperventilating my way into an asthma attack.

Weekly Update: I'm Lonely

I've probably titled a blog post this before, but I have a bit of a headache and I'm just not feeling creative with the titling today. Hopefully that clears out because I'm hoping to do a bit of writing later today, after I do a bit of working.

I'd say the past week has been pretty good. I haven't heard from Rob in a couple of days, but I'm not surprised. I don't think that he's necessarily pulling away, more just being him. It's been a long time since when we'd speak every day. I miss it, but I know that's not where he's at anymore. Hell, I miss "the man" talking to me every day but that seems to be a thing of the past too.

The reality is, and I know I've said it before, but I'm lonely. With the boys having lives of their own and almost never being here, I'm alone far too much. I miss Rob a lot and how we used to talk and joke around. I miss "the man" and how he used to tell me I'm smart and beautiful and how we would just talk. Now he's always busy and I suspect part of that busy is with someone else. Our relationship has always been an open one, but we said we'd be upfront and honest if anyone else came into the picture. He hasn't been, but it's been pretty obvious for a while now that there's someone else.

But, either way, I'm lonely and covid is just making it worse. I can't go and see either of them or anyone else. NaNoWriMo is going totally online this year and while Zoom calls are great, they're just not the same as being in the same place as other people. Ben and I go out to eat sometimes and while maybe we shouldn't, it gives me a tiny feeling of normalcy and of being around people. Right now all of my socialization comes from taking Ben to his physical therapy appointments. Tomorrow is his last one of those.

Other than that, I'm home alone all of the time. It weighs on me. I feel trapped. Sometimes I just cry. There's nothing really wrong. I just feel so alone. It's hard to feel motivated when sometimes you have no hope that this will ever end.

I went to a virtual birthday party last night. Honestly, I wasn't sure that I wanted to because I knew I'd probably only know the host and so many of his friends are doing amazing things. I don't feel as if I fall under the "cool enough" category. I went though because my loneliness overwhelmed my social anxiety. It was okay. People were friendly and I was only chastised once. I didn't walk away feeling better though. When it was over, I knew I'd probably never speak to these people again. No bonds were formed. I miss the intimacy of close friendships. I don't know how to have that when those few that are close to me are busy having lives of their own and not struggling like I am.

It used to be when I felt like this, I would pack up my laptop and I'd go to the library or the pie place and I'd spend all day there just being around people and writing. With covid, that's not an option. I cannot believe that I'm sitting here crying while I'm writing this. I feel like if anyone ever reads this they're going to tell me to pull it together and stop being ridiculous.

The truth is though that I'm still scared of Rob. I'm afraid he's going to disappear or not answer if I text him. I'm afraid he isn't the Rob that I half fell in love with over and over again. I'm afraid to reach out to him because what if he hurts me. This whole emotional thing is exhausting. Like everyone else, I just want life to be normal again. I'm pretty sure that part of my brain spends most of its days worrying that it'll never be that way again. I know it won't be for me. My boys are grown, they're living their own lives, and can't/don't take time for their mom. This is normal. I've done such a good job that they don't fear their independence and that's a good thing.

I tell people that I love living in the village...and it's true, but I don't have any friends here. I don't have any family. I've thought about moving closer to friends or "the man" but I'm scared. The last time I did that, it didn't go so well. The "friend" who rented me a tiny apartment in his house turned out to not be my friend at all, just someone who wanted my money and thought he could use whatever of mine he wanted whenever he wanted. He'd just walk into my apartment whenever he wanted. So, it's left me gun shy. What if I move somewhere where I'm close to someone I love and they act like I'm not even there.

I feel like I'm becoming more and more high maintenance as a friend. I need attention. I need someone who gets excited when I come up with a new project and I'm excited. I need someone to share things with and right now, I don't feel as if I have that. Justin tries, but he's so busy with his life that we don't really talk. He hasn't called me in months. I miss talking to him.

Like I said...I just feel very alone and miss "my" people so much right now. I wrote two stories this weekend for my new book and it's such a big deal to me. "The man" told me to keep writing, Justin read them and gave me good feedback, and I didn't even tell Rob. I guess because I posted it on social media...but he hasn't looked at my social media in years. I use these three men as an example simply because they're the three people closest to me. I don't expect my kids to get excited.

I dunno. Covid sucks. We all know this, but I guess I'm just realizing the toll that it's taking on my mental health. It's a toll that I'm not sure that I can pay and I wonder of the long term consequences. Do me a favor...look in on those who spend their lives alone. Don't get so caught up in how you're not lonely because you have a partner or co-workers that you forget those of us who don't have that. I can guarantee that I'm not okay. We all need a certain level of being connected to others and having that severed is so hard.

Still, I don't want to leave this post 100% depressing, so a challenge I've often given my oldest...
3 good things:
1. I wrote two stories on the new book.
2. The board I shoved in my couch is preventing me from sitting in the springs.
3. Apollo and Mina seem to be adjusting well.

I'll stop there and let the few of you who read this get back to your week. I hope it's an amazing one.

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: The Evening Edition

Well, it's Monday again. They seem to come so fast. I swear it was just Monday a day or so ago and here it is again. Things are better. I wouldn't say 100% but it only feels half weird to smile now. That's progress. I'm doing well enough that I can work again which is a relief. It was terrible to look at a manuscript and suddenly feel as if I had no idea what I was doing. I ended up going over one book twice and was horrified by the number of things I'd missed when things were at their worst. Now, I'm back on top with that and I've been blessed to have a number of projects come in. I'm currently booked until the end of the month which is super exciting.

My house, on the other hand, is not top of the world. When things were bad, I let things slide. It's amazing how far things can slide in as short of a time as just a couple of weeks. Roger will be here on Wednesday so I'm going to have him take out some trash that I've put together and get the can out to the road for Thursday's pick up. That should help some. I haven't seen him in a couple of weeks so it will be nice to have him here. Plus, the weather isn't supposed to be atrocious so he won't melt in his bedroom. If it gets bad, I'll give him my room with the a/c unit and sleep on the couch.

As for his brother, he's still working a lot of hours. He also just registered for his first college class. I'm nervous about it, but I know he'll work hard. Today he also started physical therapy. For those that don't know, he has cerebral palsy and it affects his muscles and tendons quite a bit. He's gotten really tight and has weakness in certain areas. Since today was his first appointment, he asked me to go with him to fill out/explain the paperwork for him. He wanted to make sure they'd be able to read it. The appointment was mostly an assessment and he was sent home with stretches to do each day. I really hope that it helps him. I want him to have things as easy as he possibly can. Starting the first week of July, he'll be going twice a week.

I guess that just leaves me. I have a few books that I want to get started on this week. I'd also like to get at least one room whipped back into shape. I'm co-hosting a show on YouTube tomorrow night. I also need to grocery shop and there's been a request for me to do a "State of the Walmart" address after. My book comes out in a few weeks so I need to promote that. Nick is launching a new kickstarter for Awakenings this week so I'll be promoting that too. And my favorite thing? My new drawers for Lego sorting should be here tomorrow so I can finish sorting out the Lego that I bought over the weekend at a garage sale.

Other than that? A shower would be nice....and trying to forget that my uncle's funeral is tomorrow.

Weekly Update: Numb

Have you ever seen those commercials for Bipolar medication where they talk about how bipolar depression is different? That it can leave a person feeling numb? That's where I've spent most of the past week. Absolutely numb. I don't seem to feel joy, sadness, anything. I've either slept or laid on the couch watching tv. I've not been on social media...and the only ones to notice? My kids. Both have texted or called to see what's up. Nobody else has reached out. If I were feeling anything, that would bother me.

On Friday, I found out that my uncle died. The one that I actually liked until he broke his word to me. I know I should feel something, but I don't. Even if I could, I'd have mixed feelings. The one thing that broke through the numb was the anxiety of attending his funeral. I won't be going. I might send flowers. After all, I'm not a heartless bitch. Not that I owe any of them anything. I don't.

Have you ever wanted to smile but it felt wrong or unnatural? I'm dealing with that too. I watched react videos last night and I'd have these little tugs of smiles but they were mere flashes. They felt uncomfortable.

On top of everything, I ran out of grocery money two weeks ago. That's what I get for shopping like a normal person and not someone poor as hell. I managed to stretch things out until the end of the week but since then I've been eating one meal a day and mostly because I make myself go and pick something up. Subways 2 for 1 subs have come in handy. I'm spending money I shouldn't but it's that or starve. The grocery store is 15 miles away and I need gas in my car. Again, I feel like I should feel something about this...worry...something...but I don't. It's just four more days until I have grocery funds again. I had 3 oreos (found a package in my car that I forgot I bought for the boys) and some water for breakfast.

I should work today. I made a to do list yesterday, but the reality is that there's not much point. I'd end up redoing it all anyway. Honestly, just turning on my laptop felt like a big deal today. I don't really want to be behind it. I want to just lay down again. If my bladder didn't insist, I don't know that I'd get out of bed. I guess it's good that I have no desire to wet the bed...I care about that much.

Sleep is hard at night. My brain relives every bad thing that it can think of. They don't hurt...because I'm numb, but it's hard to sleep. The past couple of nights it's been how the three men that I've loved most in my life all moved on and are with other women. They're all happy. I'd think about the happy times and then the moments when they'd betrayed me. It's an ugly place inside my head. Maybe that's why I then sleep during the day...often until 4pm or later. I'm protecting myself from myself.

Anyway, I wish I had better things to say, but the reality is that I'm not sure why I'm writing this other than to force some normalcy into my world. Everything became just too much and I feel wrapped up in cotton wool...perhaps just trying to block out the outside world.

Weekly Update: Better

I can't believe that it's Monday again. I look back over the past week and it seems like nothing happened...maybe that's what's caused the days to blend together. Maybe I should rephrase that. So much has been happening in the US and around the world. Not much has happened in my personal sphere.

I don't really want to get into the country's events. I'll just say that they've horrified me and overwhelmed me. I can't wrap my brain or my heart around what I'm seeing. I don't understand how anyone could treat others with less than dignity and respect. Even living in the middle of nowhere, it's affected me and those around me. My children see it happening and are equally horrified. I have to explain to my special needs son what's happening in a way that he can understand. It's a scary time and I encourage you to stand up, be heard, but also, please be as safe as you possibly can.

As for personally? Let's see...last Tuesday Ben and I went to see his orthotist who repaired his afos for him. So, after probably four to five months, he's back wearing those. He starts physical therapy later this month and I truly hope that it helps him. His muscles have tightened up and he really needs for them to loosen up some.

Wow...was my week really that dead? I worked on a new client's book. It was tougher than usual because the humidity and everything going on was just sucking the focus out of me. The village decided to replace all the drain pipes on my block so that was fun. For a couple of days I had an 8' trench in front of my house and across my driveway. Today they were out packing down the dirt and it's so dry that I honestly went outside concerned that something was on fire. Turns out it was just the dust clouds.

Oh! Something good...I did an interview yesterday and while I have no idea how many people were tuned in, I had a good time and plan to do another one next month just 9 days before my book releases. Speaking of that, in August, I might have an in-store reading/signing. Someone that I know is opening a pop culture collectible store front and he'd like me to come out. I'm a bit concerned with the up front costs involved (table covering, books, print outs, crayons, etc) but I have to dive in at some point and take advantage of every opportunity that comes along. My goal is to do library readings, check into bookstores in the area, and eventually start doing conventions. I have friends who want to table near me which will be fun...of course, none of them are local. Still, what better reason to travel then to spend time with friends and sell a few books along the way?

I guess that's it, guys. I know that this wasn't an exciting update, but it really was a dull yet overwhelming week. The highlight (other than the interview) was taking an afternoon and doing nothing more than building Lego. I could spend a lot of days doing that...

So, for now, take care of yourselves and each other. Stand up for the good and don't tolerate the bad. Wear your masks, wash your hands, and be safe....

Bonus Post: Freaking Out

Guys, I don't know if it's the caffeine talking or what, but I'm spazzing a bit tonight. As some of you know, I have my very first book (Tales From the Toy Store) coming out this summer. I'm very close to having it completed. I'm just waiting for the illustrator to finish the cover and write up his bio. Then, I insert those and send it off to Amazon where it will be published. After I go over a proof copy, it will be ready for print.

All this is great and exciting...except when it becomes an anxiety fueled "fun fest."  I'm being reminded that comic/geek podcasts won't want me on as guests because what I'm "selling" isn't their audience. This means stepping out of the industry that I've been hiding on the fringes off and trying to find podcasts that are interested in supporting children's authors. I'm sure it's as simple as doing some research, but I'm freaking out about it. The podcasts I could do now are done by friends, people I'm comfortable with.

I'm going into a spiral of oh god, what if I can't find an audience for this book? What if nobody buys it? What if I'm a total failure?

Then, as if that's not enough, tonight I was offered a video podcast of my own if I want it. I could make it about whatever I wanted but it was suggested that I do one where I bring on indie novelists. Create my own space to talk about this kind of thing. I could do it...I could fit it into my schedule...I know a few people I could have on as guests, but what do we talk about? My interviews have always been silly in nature and done in a matter of minutes. Could I somehow take that concept and make it a popular show segment? I don't know.

Did I mention that I was approached by someone about taking a job this summer writing blurbs for other people's books? This is something I profoundly am not good at...okay, I'm mediocre at it, I just like to think I suck. I was assured though that they would train me to write them in the style that they use. It's not as if I can't learn. It's not as if I couldn't use the money. My business is doing okay, but I'm always looking for new projects and new clients for during the quiet times.

So much feels as if it's flying at me all at once and while none of it is bad, it's a bit overwhelming and I don't know what to do. I'm frozen from making decisions or progress. I really don't like when I get this way. I'm sure that y'all understand. It's also bedtime but because I'm wound up, I won't sleep.

Anyway, tomorrow is the next big day for my book. I'm going to be doing a live reading of the first story that I wrote for the book. It also happens to be the first story in the book. I'm worried that nobody will be there. How can I raise excitement if nobody listens? See what I mean? Spiral. I can't let myself do this. I need to pull it together and make some decisions. I need to find my way through this.

I need for this book to do well. I'm not looking for NYT best seller. I'm looking for sells more than 50 copies. 100 copies would be a dream come true. It would be proving to myself that I could do this. It would be proving to me that I really am a writer and a good one. I want to write for the rest of my life and it starts with this book.

Deep breathes...I can get through this and tomorrow will be a new days to start making new steps, right?

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 (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: Pneumonia

Ugh. You may have noticed that I haven't updated in a couple of weeks. That's because I managed to get pneumonia. It's been two weeks and while the doctor assures me that I'm getting better, it sure doesn't much feel like it. Okay, I no longer have a crazy fever but I am still coughing until I throw up sometimes. The cough is dry and deep. I feel like a braying donkey or something...something not cool...lol.

Other than that, I've been struggling a bit with believing in myself. For ages, I've wanted to be a writer, but now that the chance is here, I feel as if I suck at it and nobody would ever read anything that I wrote. Due to being sick, I've had zero imagination as my body focuses on the act of breathing. Feeling blank scares me and part of me wants to just give up on this dream. What if nobody ever reads my stories? I gave a dozen beta readers my book of children's stories about a month ago and not a single person has read them. That's insanely disheartening. What if it sucks? What if what I thought was good is really, really bad? Ugh. I'm at the point where I want the feedback, but I don't want the feedback. I guess all I can do is wait and see if anyone reads the book. It's not like it's ready to go to print. I still need 4-5 pieces of art for inside of it and I've only sent the artist reference photos for 2 of those pieces. On top of that, I still need to come up with a cover.

Then, there's the last book of The Tether Saga. I sent it to Nick weeks ago. He said he read it, that it was a good base, and that he had a ton of notes for it. In essence, I'm hearing that I have to rewrite the entire thing. At first, I was excited about getting notes back, but as my health continues to suck and he continues to not send me the notes, my self doubt is sky high. What if I failed at that too?

Argh. Pneumonia is not good for self-esteem. It's left me too isolated but too sick to pull myself up out of this funk. Maybe once I'm feeling better and the holidays are over, I'll try to come up with enough money to take a night away at a hotel where I can take a long, hot shower and then sit and focus on what I really want/need for my own health and well being. Not like resolutions, but some self-awareness. I know me. I know what works and what doesn't work. I just have to decide what's worth working for and what needs to be put behind me. I can't imagine not writing which is weird because I seem completely incapable of writing right now. Maybe I just need all the notes from Nick and from the beta readers. Maybe they won't say you suck and maybe if they do, it will be constructive  and I can improve.

For now though, I'm going to try to get better. The coughing leaves me exhausted and I feel like I nap way more than any human being should, but it is what it is. Bonus is that my youngest is due to walk through the door any time now and that will lift my spirits. It's been pretty dang lonely sitting here all by myself while everyone is so busy with the holidays. It's good for me that he's going to be here for a few days. He's going to help me finish getting ready for Christmas and has suggested we do a bit of gaming. Yeah, it's good to not be all alone....

Weekly Update: Befuddled Brain

Normally I would spend ages looking for just the right graphic to go with this post, but today, I honestly just don't feel like it. Maybe I'm tired or maybe I'm in a little bit of a slump. Maybe I noticed that almost nobody reads these posts. It could be one or all. I just know that I can't write a brilliant post today and I'm disappointed in myself for that. The truth is though that I'm having a tough time remember what all I'm even supposed to do today.

It's been a good couple of weeks so this is probably pretty much par for the course. I could also have some bonus hormones happening. Clearly I'm not a medical professional...lol! Anyway, I'm going to do a quick weekly update and then get back to work....because I do know that there's work waiting on me.

This past week has been good. There was a lot of frustration and some anxiety as my car started having issues (yes, again...) and all three of my children kept changing the plans for the weekend. In the end, we sorted it out and I think everyone had a good weekend. I'm a bit concerned for Rog because he's talking about having intermittent hearing loss in his one ear and I'm hoping he isn't falling behind in any of his classes.

The house is coming along. I'd put the bedroom at about 60%. I've cleared out both closets now and started putting some stuff away in them. I have another four bags for Goodwill. That will put us at 13 bags donated. I can't believe how much stuff we've been hauling out of this house. I'm pretty sure we could double that before we're done. On top of that, I have realized that I need to downsize my book collection so I think I'm going to have a sale on Facebook, both on my personal page and my fan page. I'm thinking $1 a book with possible discounts on bulk purchases. Cookbooks will be priced slightly higher.  It's going to be a slow sale simply because I'm going to start adding things to a folder and add as I find more. I'm also going to throw DVDs into there too. I really could use the money to buy a new stove/oven. So, it's a double bonus if people buy them. Fingers crossed!

For now though, I think I'm going to make some lunch, stretch a bit, and then get a story proofread for a client. Have I mentioned how much I love my job? Because I honest to goodness love my job.

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?

Depression is Sneaky

It's been a month since I wrote here and I suppose that's a good thing and a bad thing. After Laura's funeral, I was thrown for a while but then life caught up with me and I had to just keep going. My youngest had final high school concerts and then honors night and then graduation. I kept waiting for the tears to come but instead, I felt almost numb. Please don't misunderstand. I am insanely proud of him and I know he's going to great things, but I'm finding it hard to feel those emotions right now.

I don't think I realized just how down I'd gotten until today. All of the usual signs were there, but because the depression wasn't this intense feeling, I hadn't recognized them. I'm guessing I can thank my medication for that which is good...I mean, it means it's doing something, right?

June seems to be kicking my ass though. Instead of the excitement over the kid graduating and life changes, I feel stuck. I feel trapped in a never ending loop of what ifs. What if my food stamps get cut back again and I can't afford to eat? What if I never finish this book? What if I do and Nick hates it? What if I can't ever get it together enough to get this house clean? What if no more jobs come in and I can't afford to do anything? What if...What if....What if...

Depression sucks, y'all. I know that I'm a super intelligent person and yet I feel stupid. I feel like a failure, like someone who will never, ever succeed at anything in life. I know that I have a lot of setbacks now, but when I'm depressed, those don't feel like setbacks, they feel like huge walls or quicksand, things that I can't get past.

Right now, I'm part of an incredibly great Kickstarter and I so badly want to have the excitement and the enthusiasm for this project so that I can help encourage people to help us fund it. Instead, I find myself not wanting to even be online because online means people and people means pretending I'm not stuck in the bottom of a well. They say fake it til ya make it, but depression is exhausting on its own and faking enthusiasm and happiness just makes it all the more tiring.

I don't know, y'all. I don't want to be like this. Who would? I want to enjoy writing, enjoy storytelling, enjoy my bullet journal again. I want to tell the world how amazing Awakenings Act 3 is without feeling like crying. Because it truly is an amazing project. Nick is an incredible storyteller and Veronica is an amazing artist. Their work deserves to be seen. I don't want to sleep 12 hours a day. I don't want to be this person right now and just typing this paragraph has made me want to go back to sleep. I hate that.

For now though, this is where I'm at...and I'm glad some of you read because feeling totally alone would just make it worse.

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.

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.