I’ve had many ‘this is my hardest’s to deal with – probably more than anyone my age has any right to deal with in some ways. But this one hit the hardest about three days ago, and I thought there was going to be a bit of give, a bit of wriggle room, but no. I finally encountered the words that just broke me in two. And I won’t repeat them. I’ve deleted them. But I came to a screeching halt, and I’m not sure how things will change, but change they absolutely will.
But first – I have a heck of a lot of grieving and coming to terms with things to do – and I need to build an actual, sensible plan to sustain my businesses. And I have to accept that part of that is digging out my work ethic and dealing with everything that’s gone on lately and putting things right. And I’ve come to the conclusion that to do that, this book needs to end. This story, no matter that it’s not a happily ever after needs to become something that we relegate to the ‘not touching’ drawer. Not everything that’s happened – no, they’re elements that can be reused. But the tale of the sad girl that lives inside her house and does nothing…that’s a bust. That’s so much of a bust we’re not making it past the first draft.
I’m not ashamed but…
When you’re where I am, you’re not *supposed* to admit bullying gets to you. I’m the moderator of one of the biggest indie communities on Facebook, I run a lot of things for a lot of different people and I find myself, daily, waking up and dreading the comments that appear here, and on the other blogs, I run. In my inbox, on Twitter, by PM on Facebook. And, in with that realisation is that I’m as unkind to myself as all of these people. My self-talk is terrible. I’d rather sleep (or try to) than work. And I hate admitting that, but my sleep is disturbed again, and it’s getting difficult to do *much* of anything.
I do have one ray of light though, beyond my family, who are just the best, and my friends, who equally rock, and that’s my books. I’ll be talking about them more naturally in the coming days, but for now, I just wanted to thank anyone that’s supported me as a writer. I don’t always get to write, but it is one of my few places of solace. And if I’m walking off this earth to another, I couldn’t do it without knowing that I was writing the story as I went.
So, there’s a post up that’s caused a bit of back channel fuss on my blog called ‘the Fear‘. If you haven’t read it already, and want the cliff notes, it’s about what happened to me in school as a child. Contextually, it’s about bullying – it’s about self-image and why nothing that people can or could say will change my opinion of myself.
There’s a but coming.
‘The Fear‘ Was meant to be an off the cuff post that turned into this massive angsty dump onto my blog, so to balance it off, here’s some other information.
There’s no way we can tag what I went through as the reason I’m bipolar. There’s also little doubt in my mind that I wasn’t particularly resilient in the first place – I was prone to depression and immaturity as it stood, without adding in what went on. I don’t know if that fact would have remained consistent throughout school if somehow everything had been nipped in the bud, but what I do know is that I have a very… interesting perspective on why people behave the way they do. One day, soon, I’ll go back and find all of my older posts and republish the important ones here. One of the posts dealt with bullying, and how my perspective to things might have differed.
What I did want to say was though I say ‘I’m ugly’ or ‘I’m plain’ – it’s kinda like saying, ‘I can’t cook’, or ‘I’m rubbish at painting’. I know what I’m good at and while there’s a whole other element of accepting that, at least it sits easier on me.
But take my word for it when I say that I’m ok with this. It’s not important to my choice of job (writer), so it’s one of those things that I’ve learned to live with. And ultimately, I’m marrying a gorgeous guy who I adore and who thinks I’m perfect. I can disagree with that, but having that and my family who believe that I can do anything I put my mind to has done a lot to give me at least a base to work from now. In the coming weeks and months, I’m going to be talking mental health *a lot* – after Glass Block, I promised I’d do the second draft of Pictures, so it’s on my mind a lot, I guess.