My First Rejection

So, I received my first rejection letter. It was a soul crushing experience. I tried desperately to put into words what I was feeling, only to crash and burn into a fit of tears.

I’m going to share the entire experience with you, because I want others to realize they aren’t alone. Also, I’m going to link in my favorite topic: bipolar disorder.

A few months back I was slapped with an idea for a story, and before I knew what was happening, my fingers were flying across the keyboard. Hours disappeared at a time, and the story was writing itself. I found the experience therapeutic, because I was able to release so many of the dark and negative thoughts rumbling around in my head that I’m afraid to admit out loud. I found myself sitting in the edge of my own chair, wondering what was going to happen next. There was no planning, no charting, just me and the keyboard. It was a scraping clean of the subconscious, with hopes of making room for bigger, better things. I was once more surprised with my own writing, a sensation I’ve been lacking for many years now, and realised I wanted it released to the world.

Until I actually pressed submit.

I spent the remainder of my evening trying desperately not to throw up on customers, checking my email repeatedly even though I knew nothing had changed since I’d checked it five minutes before. I kept saying over and over “There’s a stranger touching my things!” And I felt like I was being violated. It was the weirdest thing.

I kept telling myself I was going to be rejected, because I am the type of person who always thinks the worst until I’m pleasantly surprised by awesome. Once I was home from work, I laid down and kept saying “Prepare yourself. You’re going to be rejected.” I thought I could handle it.

I was wrong.

The email came while I was asleep, so it was the first thing I saw when I woke up. “Thank you for submitting your work. Unfortunately it isn’t what we’re looking for at this time.”

All at once, the world began to spin in reverse. Cracks and tears began to appear in the fabric of my reality. I was sitting there trying desperately not to cry, and failing miserably.

The remainder of the day was spent curled up in a ball crying, or sitting in the car crying. You’ll notice the common theme here is crying.

And all my wonderful friends and family tried their best to cheer me up with statistics. And I did appreciate it, I swear I did. Unfortunately I couldn’t rise to the occasion and thank anyone properly because I was too busy fighting my own demons to worry.

See, here’s another thing about being bipolar. It is a learning process every day. No, seriously. And that point makes sense to all the above I’ve said thus far. Scientists are still learning about it, and so too are the ones who have it. Every day we are faced with new challenges and potential triggers, and learning what to do and how to react.

And I learned insane amounts of worry and stress can bring on one hell of a down turn once it’s finally relieved. Suddenly I wasn’t just coming to terms with a rejection letter, I was coming to terms with everything I’ve ever done wrong in my life, and convincing myself I wasn’t a failure at life. Suddenly I was crying because my grandfather died almost a year ago. I was crying because I was a divorced, single mother. One of my dear friends, whom in my eyes should receive sainthood, received the brunt of my downturn. I kept telling her “Just let me have this moment, just let me fall apart. It’s not me, it’s the chemicals in my head, I’ll be okay soon.”

Finally she understood it wasn’t a “get back on the horse, champ” speech I was looking for, but someone to just listen to me while I spiraled out of control.

I learned that the right thing said at the wrong time can make me angry, even though I knew the intentions were in the right place. I waited until my brain was back to functioning order before I responded or “liked” anything. Now I feel much better, and though I do still have anxiety, I will eventually try again.

Which brings me to the next part of my post. I’m honestly thinking about switching my blog to mainly bipolar logs (read: personal therapy) since it seems to be what I talk about most. Which, can you really blame me? It is the topic I understand most, and understand the least.

But here recently I’ve been seeing quite a few articles pop up titled things like “45 things all bipolar people want you to know” and “five things Hollywood gets wrong about being bipolar”. I thought I would take this opportunity to share some nuggets of wisdom from my own experiences, and experiences I’ve gathered from the world around me.

1. Bipolar disorder is not black and white.  One thing I hated when I was taking sociology and psychology was how badly everyone tried to fit everything in a neat little category, and liked to pretend there was no such thing as a grey area. That simply isn’t how real life works. Person A and Person B may have the same disorders, but that doesn’t mean they suffer the same symptoms. Person A may have strong anxiety issues, where Person B may have strong cases of sociopathy. Person C may have all of those, and Person D may suffer from something else entirely.

2. We’re often relieved to learn something we do is classified as a symptom. I am a bit of an impulse buyer. I spend way too much time on Amazon, and if there’s something I want, I get it. I always thought this was just a bad habit (memorizing my debit card number didn’t help either), until I had to start saving money for a trip. I was doing so well, until a swing hit me, and suddenly I NEEDED that burger, or NEEDED that top. Next thing I new, money I’d saved up for a month was gone, and I was left standing there going “Where the hell did my money go…?” I was actually relieved to learn impulse buying is actually a symptom (falling under the category of risky behavior). Good news for me, bad news for my bank account.

3. Most articles center around people who are medicated. I haven’t been medicated since I was 13, choosing instead to go it on my own. I’m not saying people who take medication are weak, or can’t do it in their own. Quite the contrary, medication is a scary thing and often the side effects are more terrifying than the disorder itself (see any commercial regarding bipolar or depression medicine, and the list of possible side effects takes up more than half the commercial). What I’m saying is medication and I had a disagreement and I decided I could do things on my own. But reading articles focusing entirely on people who are medicated can sometimes make those of us who aren’t feel as though we are doing something wrong. WHICH, by the way, we are not! I’m not using this as a platform against big-pharm, because I realize some cases legitimately need medication to function or survive. But I also believe firmly in behavioral therapy.

4. There is a right thing and a wrong thing to say. Problem is, we don’t know what it is either! This is one point I want to stress heavily, especially for anyone who is fortunate enough to be our friends, our family, and who is willing to sit and hold our hands. At least in my experience, I am often waiting to hear the right thing. And when people talk or try to help, I’m not okay until I hear it. The problem is, however, I don’t know what that is until I hear it. And it could all depend on what point I’m in in my cycle. A piece of advice given to me on one day may anger me, yet the same piece of advice given a day/week/month later may suddenly make prefect sense and lead to the lovely “Ah ha!” moment. We’re not trying to be ungrateful, or heartless. We’re not trying to say we don’t appreciate the intention. Sometimes it just hasn’t clicked yet.

5. We are passengers in our own heads. In some of my worst cycles, I’ve often explained that it feels like someone else has control of my body and mouth, and I’m just a passenger. I’m not justifying, or giving a way out of accepting responsibility. All I’m saying is sometimes there are so many chemicals moving and shifting around, we’re just as lost and surprised as you are.

6. Sometimes we don’t know what to do either. Think of it like getting drunk. You have your go-to drink, the one that makes you happy. You’re comfortable, you’re okay with it. You know how your body will react. Midway through the evening, however, you’re accidentally served a drink you’ve never had, and it’s strong. You react differently, you’re not sure you like it. Then you’re served a completely different drink. This one makes you nauseated, causes you to ache or feel sick, but you know it’ll pass soon. Another drink and you’re feeling very confident, a feeling you can live with. Before the night is over, you’re slipped drugs and you lose all control. The combination of strange drinks plus drugs, becomes deadly. That’s what it’s like being bipolar. A chemical alters what we are feeling, and it doesn’t take much to trigger a reaction in many cases. Depending on the feeling, we can sometimes be left feeling quite vulnerable.

7. We are NOT CRAZY.
Sometimes our moods are chaotic, and in some cases people have lashed out at others in anger. But that doesn’t mean we are psychotic. The society we live in has placed all mental disorders into the category of crazy, which is detrimental (hahahaha) to the patient, the patient’s families, etc. Many of us already feel like we are broken, like we are losing our minds, we don’t need to be categorized in the same box as Charles Manson.

8. We do love, some of us just do it differently. One thing I struggled with, and still struggle with, is experiencing and showing love. Sometimes I need to be my own person, rather than so-and-so’s daughter, so-and-so’s mother, so-and-so’s girlfriend, etc. Other times I love so entirely it becomes physically painful. Manic love, in my opinion, is the gateway of obsession. Then there are days where I can’t love, because I’m too busy in my own head to worry about anyone around me. It’s hard to explain, but… One thing I’ve always wanted to say and explain to family, my friends, loved ones new and old….  My feelings are, and were, real, just some days are harder than others.

I’m sure I had many other points to make, but I can’t seem to think of them. This will be a case of I’ll remember as soon as I click publish. Ah well. If you have any thoughts, or anything you’ve just always wanted your friends/family/loved ones to know, feel free to add it in a comment below.

The Graveyard

A majority of my life I’ve heard that I’m strange for enjoying staying up all night. As I got older, I was told staying up all night was childish. Now that I’m working a graveyard shift, I often hear “Oh, I’m so sorry.”

I understand that many people who work third shift aren’t there by choice, but for the most part there is an exclusive club of us who do choose it, and mostly enjoy it. There are fewer people, less phone calls, and most of the time there’s less drama as well. I stand beside my point once made that graveyard shifts are perfect for introverts.

It annoys me, and always has, the amount of negativity associated with third shift. So before you start feeling sorry for me, or thinking I’m strange, allow me to shed some light for you.

We’re the people that help with your late night food cravings. We’re your hotel clerks who help you when you simply can’t drive any further. We’re your late night gas station attendants. We’re your 24 hour customer service representatives, road side assistance, phone operators, dispatchers, emergency teams, etc. We’re your bartenders, your hotlines, your police officers, etc. So, before you talk about how strange we night folk are, be thankful for us on your next car ride or late night trip to a hospital. Without us, your world would stop after ten PM.

Third shifters come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and genders. Graveyard workers tend to stick together and watch each other’s backs, a luxury we have since we eliminate some of the daytime chaos.

I’m writing this because I just got off work and I can hear the rumble of a lawnmower. But I can’t complain about it because I’m “wasting the day by sleeping.” While the world keeps spinning on its obsessive need to make the “daytime people” happy, third shifters are subjected to things like “You work at night, that means you’ve got time to do -insert task- during the day.” Or daytime phone calls. Or lawnmowers.

I wish it was okay to do these things at night to daytime people, but that’s “rude”. Not knocking the day shift, I’ve worked my fair share and you guys have your own list of problems. I’m not even saying third shifters have it the worst. We don’t.

Side note: Why is it that when I Swype “people” on my phone, it likes to input purple instead? Just curious.

Anyway. I think we just need to start betting a bit more accepting of people, no matter what shift they work or if they prefer being a night time or day time person.

I’m going to bed now. Good day!

Tis the season…of HALLOWEEN

I love Halloween. In fact, I’m rather sure “love” doesn’t even begin to explain the joy and excitement I feel starting somewhere in late August, that carries on into early November. No other holiday compares in my mind.

I love everything about it! I love when the stores start putting out their decorations, choosing a costume. I put more thought into what I’m going to be than I do what I’m going to buy for presents for Christmas.

That being said, towards the end of August I made the decision that this year I’m going to go all out for Halloween. It’s been a while since I’ve really been able to do much. This year will be amazing. So I bought a skeleton.

Let me state up front that my idea was not original. I got the idea from this blog http://www.oddthingsiveseen.com/2013/10/skull-in-family.html. I discovered it a while back, and realized that I, too, had a plastic skeleton shaped hole in my life.

So I bought one.

His name is Ichabod Cranium.

And I love him.

Here are just a few things that Ichabod has gotten up to since he arrived.

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My boss loves him, and I’ve been given permission to decorate the hotel lobby how I see fit. I’m so excited about it! Now it begins. Tis the season of Halloween!

Things I’ve learned working in a hotel

I’m back!! I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted. Life has a way of stepping in and ruining all the fun.

The worst part is, I have had so many things I’ve wanted to talk about. But what I have in terms of inspiration is constantly being thwarted by my lack of desire to actually type it all up for others to read. Perhaps another time I will type up the blog that includes everything I’ve wanted to type about.

However, we are not here for what I may do, we are here to discuss the hotel business. Yes, I am proud to announce that I have finally managed to land myself a job, and I’m nearly finished with my third week. It is quite exciting, and challenging. As an introvert, I face a few struggles that an extroverted person wouldn’t. In my journey, I have picked up quite a bit of useful knowledge that I shall now share with you. I am typing this on my phone so forgive me any mistakes I may make.

1). Customer service is everything: When a person walks into a hotel, they are looking for a nice, professional person to hand all of their information to. You have to look the part, and act the part, even if you really don’t want to. This is, obviously, the same in every business from food to cars.

2). Multitasking is a bitch!: I’ve always been a pretty good multitasker, but I had to really step up my game. Often times I’ll have phones ringing, and people trying to get a room. You’re typing in credit card numbers in the machines, and giving quotes to the next person in line. I am horribly number dyslexic, so I struggle a bit with it. But I’m getting better.

3). Assholes exist here too: I’d been working for all of six days, and a self entitled asshole gentleman walks in. He starts spouting off all these questions that I don’t have the answers to, and gets angry with me when I explained I was new and didn’t know how to help. He slammed his hands on the counter and walked out, calling me an ignorant ass as he went. I also get people who get angry at me for the price. If it were up to me, I’d lower of. Which brings me to my next lesson…

4). Sympathy has no place here: I think this was the hardest lesson I had to learn (other than keeping up with math). During horrible weather, or so late st night they are falling asleep at the wheel, drivers are often shoved off the interstate and forced to get a room. The first few days I was here, I felt awful and would charge the lowest rate we offered. And that was a no no. After I sewed up the new asshole I’d been given by my bosses, I realized I was going to have to harden my heart. What is even worse than that is when you get people who are here for really sad reasons. I had a woman who hadn’t slept in days because her daughter was in the hospital having her fourth open heart surgery. She’d been forced to leave but didn’t want to go home, and chose my hotel instead. I hated. Hated. Charging her full price. But. This is a business, and businesses are here to make money. Sympathy, unfortunately, doesn’t make money.

5). You will become emotionally invested: I see a lot of truckers, a lot of travlers, and because I sit and chat with them, I tend to learn about where they are heading and where they came from. The incredibly nice ones I often find myself wondering if they made it to their destination safely. It’s a sad thought to realize that some of the people I see won’t make it. This leads into my next point.

6). Your sense of responsibility triples: Along with becoming emotionally invested, you take on a sense of responsibility for them, and their belongings. We have security cameras covering every inch of this place, and it is my job to keep an eye on the screens to make sure nothing gets stolen.

7). Your job doesn’t stop at the front desk: If you’re working in a small hotel in a small town, there may not be enough staff on hand to do all the jobs that need to be done at any given moment. When I first started working, I simply worked the front desk. On my second day, I was doing laundry. Fourth day I was fixing a computer. Fifth day I was typing up documents for my boss. Tenth day I was stripping down rooms, and delivering things up to people. When people ask what I do, I usually tell them I’m a personal front desk maintenance maid assistant.

8). Being a female in the hotel business sucks sometimes: I’ve only had this happen once, thankfully, but a guy took my niceness as flirting, and then started trying to have sex with me. Since I work in a hotel, it must also mean I can um…assist them in other ways.

9). You quickly learn your surroundings: Before working here, I knew the bare minimum of my town, and neighboring towns. Now I know every restaurant, gas station, etc in town, how far it is to the next towns, which towns would provide the better rates, and so forth.

10). Entertaining yourself is a must: On Mondays and Fridays, I’m always busy. During thr rest of the week, later into my shift, it gets very boring and very quiet. I was bored to tears during my first week, to the point that I started cleaning just so I had something to do. The lobby has a great shine to it now, though. This doesn’t stop at the slow days. You have to find a way to make this fun for yourself. I like to learn about people. So I make this fun by talking to them.

11). It’s like a family: I can’t speak for all hotel chains, only for the own I’m in at the moment. My boss told me they treat everyone like family, especially their employees. At first, I didn’t believe her. But it’s true! Her husband told me if I have problems with a person, tell him and they will kick them out, because “my life is more valuable than their money”. I’m sorry, I just don’t know a lot of businesses that would say that, and mean it. I don’t get mad and bitch about not wanting to come to work. Instead, I show up hoping to make them proud. I have value here, and I’m shown that often.

I feel very blessed. This job fell into my lap unexpectedly, and I love it.

Ghosts, Goblins, and Scares. Oh my!

Hello everyone! Did you miss me? I know I missed all of you! I’d like to take a moment to thank all of my readers for visiting; I appreciate you so very much! As I have warned before, I am using my phone, so forgive any odd typos I might make. Autocorrect is a blessing and a curse.

But, the main purpose for this blog is not to discuss the wonders (ha ha) of the technological world, it is instead geared towards what happens after we have all perished. For those of you who know me well, personally, I have always been very open about my beliefs, especially in regards to the afterlife. I’ve had so many paranormal experiences in my own home alone that it would be impossible for me to recount each one for you. Ever since I was a child, I have been aware of ghostly entities drifting around me, and many have commented at the fact that I treat each one very casually.

Doors have opened by themselves, voices around me while home alone, figures standing over me as I’m asleep in my bed, and so many other things are on my list of supernatural experiences. That being said, however, I would like to draw everyone’s attention to something that has happened recently. I was lying in bed, playing with my phone (like most do before bed now), when I felt a strange sensation on my hand. Logically I jumped to the conclusion that three phone was plugged in charging, and I was more than likely feeling that electricity. It felt like a hand was resting on mine. I dismissed this, having found the reasonable excuse, and continued what I was doing. Suddenly the sensation stopped, and a gray hand comes at my face. I was so shocked by this that I actually backed away, but all this hand did was disappear as it brushed fingers through my hair.

Now, I take great pride in my bravery, and my ability to shrug things of this nature off. I even go so far as to talk to the ghosts in my room when I’m bored or lonely. But this scared the absolute crap out of me. I think it frightened me so because I’d shrugged off in favor of rationality, and the result was so sudden that my logical brain went MIA. Which is finger because Pfffft. Logic.

The experience also had me wondering. Before I explain my ponderings, I’ll explain my beliefs a bit further. I am a pagan, a proud and actively practicing one. In our belief, winter is the time of death and dormancy, spring is the time for life (which also fits scientifically as well). Around Halloween (yes, I realize Halloween is in autumn), the veils that separate our world and the spirit world are at their thinnest, while in spring, they are closed pretty tightly. Again, a time for celebrating life, not the afterlife. Which brings me to my question: If spiritual and paranormal activity are supposed to be quieted and dormant for the time being, why are there so many paranormal events happening so suddenly, so strongly, and so close together? There have been others that happened other than the hand thing, but I can’t remember each one. Is someone trying desperately to get my attention to tell me something? Are the ghosts just clinging to me for some reason?

Then again, many of my closest friends have had an increase of supernatural experiences as well. Paganly speaking, this is not normal. Normally speaking, having ghosts that you casually talk to isn’t normal either. To which I say Pfffft to you.

So, for all my ghost lovers out there. What do you think? Have you seen a strange and sudden increase in ghost-like activity? Do you have strange stories to share?

Hectic days

It has been a long couple of days, my dear friends and readers. While waiting to pick up my daughter, I was struck with the sudden urge to speak about it. On Friday my grandfather went into the hospital, and I found out by means of Facebook. I immediately was thrown into an unnecessary battle with a so called friend, and I felt utterly betrayed by someone who claims to be my best friend. Between hardly sleeping, and rushing around trying to visit my grandfather, I’ve hardly had a chance to stop, let alone think. But I did realize a number of different things over the course of the past few days:

1). Take advantage of what time you are given, as nothing is guaranteed.

2). In the face of tragedy, your true friends will show themselves, while the wolves shed their skins and give up the facade of being loyal.

3). Be careful to give your trust to the right people, and avoid the wrong ones.

4). There is great value to simply sitting and listening to someone. It may seem small to us, but to the speaker, it may be the equivalent of opening their soul to you.

5). I don’t know what I would do if I lost my grandfather. For years I’ve battled my own demons, and didn’t visit as often as I should have for my own reasons. When I heard he was in the hospital, I realized how foolish my strange despise was, not towards him but to those around him, and vowed to be at his side whenever possible.

Today he was moved from ICU to a regular room, and we were over joyed. His doctor wants him home by Valentines day, which is romantic lol. But I knelt by his bed, held his hand, and even with a room full of people we talked, just the two of us. I don’t know if he had always intimidated me, or if it was my own fear of not knowing what to say, but I learned today that it didn’t matter. Sometimes it’s just about being there and holding their hand. Words are important, they have power. I believe, however, that the true power lies within what is unspoken, and in your actions. It’s like the old saying goes: Actions speak louder than words. I know now just how true that is.

Another very important moment came to me earlier, and I completely forgot to mention it. But now that I am at a computer rather than updating via phone, I’ll post about it. My grandfather started out in life being not a very religious person, but as he grew up and things began changing in his life, he accepted the Lord into his heart and converted to Christianity. He’s been a man of God and, as he says “has tried to do best by the Lord since.” Now, those of you who know me are well aware of the fact that I am not Christian. I haven’t been for years. So imagine my guilt and distress when he told me to give all of my troubles to the Lord. I spent the rest of the night questioning myself, my religious choices, which is something I’ve not done in years. He doesn’t know of my personal choices, and I am sure you can gather why.

As I lay in bed later that night, thinking over the conversation we’d had that literally had me in tears, I had a strange epiphany. I have my own set of gods, and deities. It may not be “God” or “Jesus” in the Christian sense of the word, but I believe in a higher being. I can still take his advice to heart without crossing my own beliefs. I felt such relief when I realized this, though looking back I should have known that from the start. And watching my grandfather battle through this, my faith is restored. I cannot tell you if there is a God, I cannot tell you if Jesus really did walk the earth. I don’t know which religion is right, which one is wrong, or anything such as that. What I can tell you is there is obviously something out there. Some higher being. Perhaps it doesn’t even have a name. But something is watching over my grandfather right now, and something will be bringing him home soon. And I am thankful for that.

This is a test

I just got the WordPress app on my phone, so I’m trying it out. As a side note I have decided on a few things. One: I have got to start putting my phone on silent. Two: this app will probably end badly for me on account of now I’m completely mobile. Three: the swype autocorrects are hilarious when you are tired. And finally: I am going to start writing thirty minutes everyday, whether it be my blog or my book. So that could be considered good news or bad news for you guys. You decide! Now it is time for me to log off for the evening/morning and get a bit of sleep. Fare well all!

Letter to Myself

On February 4, 2013, one of my favorite authors began a project where he proceeded to ask his twitter followers a variety of different questions for each month of the year. I decided to participate, and posted a few of my own answers here and there when I could come up with something worthwhile to mention. At first I thought it was just a fun little game, but the more I started reading the responses other people were submitting, I began to realize just how serious this was. (For information on this particular project, visit: http://journal.neilgaiman.com/2013/02/a-very-late-blog-about-trying-to-make.html)

Some of the questions were just for fun, but others were truly soul-searching. I wanted to reach through my computer screen on many separate occasions and hug some of the people who responded. For twelve hours, I felt a connection to complete strangers that I might never have experienced otherwise. I laughed with people, cried with people, from all over the world. I’m not sure Neil Gaiman ever intended to have such a reaction from his followers, but it is quite obvious that he received it nevertheless.

It was quite exciting watching all of the months pass by, reading all of the responses as they trickled in. The last question, however, was probably the most heart wrenching…

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Seems like a simple enough question considering we have all lost someone that we would give anything in this world to see again. There were the typical answers you would expect to see in response to such a question (Typical, but still important to the equation), some had me staring at the screen with a wide open jaw, thinking “Wow… Perhaps my life isn’t so bad after all…” But some of the answers had me pondering….to the point that I’ve had this thought worm chewing on my brain for four days now…

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Not only did these two answers in particular make me rethink my own answer (I said I wanted to see my best friend again who passed away before I could tell her goodbye), but it made me start reevaluating my own past. If I had a time machine, there would be a lot I would go back to tell myself. Admittedly I probably wouldn’t listen anyway, but I would at least try. For three days I pondered this… if I could go back…. what would I say?

I came up with the idea somewhere in the course of the past few days that I was going to sit down and write a letter to myself naming off a variety of things I would tell my past self if given the opportunity, but then realized I could make it bigger than that. I could make this a yearly project all my very own. As life goes on, we are all guilty of being caught up in the swing of things, of taking the little things for granted, and of not appreciating what we should in the time before it is lost. As each year passes, I want to write a letter to myself as a way to realize perhaps things aren’t as bad as I thought they were. A way to pull out the positive, so to speak.

Dear Younger Self,

Your mother and father don’t always know how to tell you, but they do love you. They are trying their best for you, even if there were always better options. Don’t hold so much against them, because that will drive a huge wedge between you that you will never be able to pull out.

I know you feel alone, and scared, but believe me when I say you are anything but alone. There are so many people in the world who know exactly what you are going through. Cutting is not the answer… All you are going to do is leave scars all over your body that you will have to answer for later. And you will. Trust me, you will. After a while you’ll begin to run out of excuses and, upon the inquirer the truth, you will receive pity. You don’t want pity, do you? Not to mention, they are going to serve as constant reminders each time you pull your sleeve up, and you’ll never forget just how much pain you were in.

I know you think suicide is the only way out, but I’m here to tell you that if you die, you will miss out on so much. You’ll meet some of the best people in the world. Put that bottle of pills down, put the razorblade away. It does get better from here, you just have to keep your head up and believe in yourself.

Stop spending all of your money trying to impress your friends and pay for your boyfriend’s stuff. You’re only 16, and he’s a grown man, he can do it himself. And if he can’t, then he needs to grow up as well. If your friends cannot be your friends when you do not have money, then they aren’t worth keeping around.

Learn to stand up for yourself. You will get so much more accomplished if you stop letting people take advantage of you. I realize you are trying to see the good in everyone, and give everyone the benefit of the doubt, but sometimes there just is no good to find. Hold those that love you regardless of what you have to offer closer, because in the end, those are the only ones who will stick around.

Don’t worry about those miscarriages you had, my darling. Soon you will be graced with the most beautiful baby girl you’ve ever seen in your life, and she will become your entire world. Please don’t give up hope, and stop thinking that you won’t be able to have children. She’s truly wonderful, let me just say that.

Don’t allow yourself to be pressured into marriage. Do not settle. Period. But at the same time you need to learn how to compromise a bit better. The relationships you were in were doomed to fail, you could not have helped that, but good things did come from them.

Stop letting the fears from your fast get in the way of your future. Your friends, your lovers, and your family cannot undo what has been done, and though they want to help you it is not fair to force the burden of your past onto them. What I mean is: The past is the past, the future is the future. Learn from your mistakes, but do not let them dictate your every move. You’re going to lose a lot of friends and learn this the hard way, but it is a valuable life lesson that you’ll carry with you from that point on.

Don’t ever start smoking. Seriously. You’ll become addicted to the habit, you’ll be irritable without it, and you’re going to miss out on a LOT. Yes, that means you lose your excuse to leave a crowded room when you want, but the benefits outweigh the sacrifices.

Remember that book you were trying to right in your senior year of high school? Guess what? I finished it. It isn’t published yet, but the people who have read it thoroughly enjoyed it. You’re a great, and talented writer even if you do not yet see it. Trust me though, you will.

And finally, love yourself. Love yourself more and more every day. Do not rely on the words of others. Compliments are one thing, but if you know you have a talent, don’t wait for someone to tell you they enjoy it. You’ll get nowhere. You could have joined choirs, you could have joined writing groups, so much could have been done with your life if you’d just stop letting the opinions of others rule your life. You’re beautiful, wonderful, and talented, and it is perfectly okay to accept that and believe it.

Love always,

Your future self…

P.S. Seriously what kind of drugs were you on when you thought your handwriting was legible? Start writing clearly and NOT IN SHORT HAND if you want me to remember the notes you wrote me. Thank you.

NaNoWriMo; to do or not to do.

For years, I have heard many of my writer friends discuss NaNoWriMo–National Novel Writing Month–and though the idea of participating always seemed appealing, I never thought I would be one of those people signing up for it. Don’t get me wrong, I have always dreamed of writing a novel. But the idea of finishing a book in one month seemed daunting and challenging. I guess, you could say, fear kept me from entering because I didn’t want a public display of my failures.

In July, I began writing a book called A Thousand Lifetimes. The title, and the story, had been in my head for over five years. I was tired of reading everyone books by other people, and realized I wanted my own story out there. So I started writing. And the more excited I became over it, the more I wrote. Within a month, I had reached 50,000 words. Brilliant!

By the time the novel was complete, I’d written over 90,000 words. As I typed the words “Epilogue”, I began to cry. For five years I’d struggled with this story. For five years I’d teased the idea of writing it. And now it was complete. Or so I thought. I started rereading it, and realize how fast and vague I’d been. I realized all of the errors I’d made, or inconsistencies. I wanted to cry once more, but for new reasons. I felt I’d been on the ball in regards to the book, only to find out I really hadn’t. Most of what I had written had been, in fact, garbage. So I swore I would take a month off, and start again in October.

October rolls around, and I find I’m lacking in motivation. I stare at A Thousand Lifetimes and feel an overwhelming sense of dread. I battle with myself for hours thinking “What’s the point? I thought I was on my A-Game when I first wrote it, is it ever going to be anything beyond trash?” Then I remembered a few things.

1). We are our own worst critics. No matter how proud we are of ourselves and our accomplishments, we will be the first person to kick ourselves into the mud. Every little negative comment strikes deeper than the positive ones. I had at least 10 people reading my first draft, and the majority of the good feedback was phenomenal. Then one negative comment would slip in, and I felt like my world was crumbling.

2). Use the negativity to your advantage; let it inspire you to do better. I would mourn a bit for the fact that I’d received negative criticism, and then with a new found determination I would throw myself into the chapter and make it better. I wrote in ways I never thought I could, all because I wanted to prove everyone wrong. Negative comments aren’t always bad, and anything can be used to your advantage if you try.

3). No one is perfect, no even your favorite authors. When you have idols that have published tons and tons of books, are well known throughout the world, etc, you sometimes forget that they were once where you are. You sometimes forget that they are also human, and they make mistakes as well. It was so surreal when I was reading through an eBook written by one of my favorite authors, only to discover a few typos, as well as a few grammatical errors. Even your idols have issues.

Keeping all of that in mind, the topic of NaNoWriMo came up once more, but I still had hesitations. I still wasn’t quite motivated enough. I began digging through my mind, trying to uncover my Muse from what ever pile of crude she’d been buried under, and thought of all the positive things people had said as a way to try and inspire myself. This did very little, however, so I picked at the negative comments people had given. I felt that familiar flare, that jittery feeling in my chest I feel when I am suddenly overwhelmed with the need to write, to prove them all wrong. I immediately logged into the NaNoWriMo website, and signed up. So here I am, talking to you.

I honestly believe that, for many of us, positive comments just will not work. I think deep down we know our writing is good, even if we do not wish to admit it. We know our story, or idea, is good. We don’t need to be reminded (In reality we do, of course). Negative comments, on the other hand, provide a challenge. How dare you say what I’ve written isn’t good? I’ll prove you wrong. Then again, that may be just me.

Find what inspires you, dig down as deep as you can if you must, but find it and latch on to it. And do not let go until you’ve reached your goal.

I can’t guarantee that I will finish, but I am going to give it my best effort. Not everyone completes the challenge, and that’s okay. There’s always next year, after all. So for any of you out there looking for advice, here it is. Do your best, but if you don’t finish, don’t stress out about it. There is always time.

One of my favorite authors once said “You will destroy your dreams. The good news is, you can always repair them again.”–Laurell K. Hamilton.

I’ve also decided that the first few posts of this blog will be about NaNoWriMo, and my experience with it. It seemed appropriate to start off with the WHY I’m doing this. Good luck to all those participating in NaNoWriMo!!

Lost and confused

Hello everyone! I broke down and decided to finally get myself a blog. I haven’t a clue what I will be writing about, so this will be an adventure for us all. I suppose I should tell you a bit about myself. I am a single mother of one, and she is absolutely astounding. I am currently in the process of editing a novel in hopes of one day getting it published.

I adore Paranormal Romance, but I am equally as picky in regards of the books I read. My idols are Anne Rice, Laurell K. Hamilton, and Jeaniene Frost.

I like to consider myself a huge nerd/geek combination with interests dipping into Psychology, Doctor Who, metaphysics, Dream catchers, writing, reading, anatomy, history, etc. I could, quite literally, go on and on about such things and bore the crap out of you. Yay!

I co-host a small online radio show called Friday Ketchup. It is one of the most exciting things I can do in life, really.

So I’ve rambled on enough for a first post, I think. Yay!