Tag Archive: stress


A Life Update

give-me-money

Snoopy hopes for what all of us writers do. Image by Charles Schulz

It’s still been some time since I’ve been back here writing… and it’s something that I admit I haven’t been doing as well as I might. There are many reasons why I haven’t written all that much. My stress had been through the roof. And a large part of it for a long time was a dissolution of a relationship… and many things about that relationship specifically. Now that is done and I’ve done some work on building myself back up, that seems to be waning… even the stress to find a second part-time job.

I’ve also had a health issue. I am one week away from my final oral surgery to take care of dental issues. While I’m glad that it’s almost done, there’s a lot of anxiety surrounding it as well. And, even bigger, a lot of pain. Concentration has been difficult at best. I’m still dealing with the pain from my teeth which should hopefully be finished soon. Tooth pain sucks.

I also had to take a moment to look at myself. I had to admit that I was my own worst enemy when it comes to me not writing. Between my disappointment with people and dealing with a lot of personal demons that came out on Thanksgiving and knowing that no matter what, I don’t think I’ll ever really be excepted by my own family. I’ve tried so hard my whole life to be accepted by them. I guess I need to accept that they don’t necessarily care about who I am. That my sexuality and my gender identity doesn’t mean all that much to them.

That’s been the hardest part to accept. So, what do I do now?

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?

Mostly, I’m going to keep on writing. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned recently, it’s that writing is probably the most important thing to me. I need to create worlds and stories. I need to create characters and watch them grow as the words continue to flow from my fingers. Not writing hasn’t been helpful to me. Writing is such a huge part of myself, so I need to do more of it.

After I recuperate from my surgery next week, I’ll attempt to write here at least once a week. I’ll also keep working on my screenplays and other writing. I have a new story that I’m still working on the beginning of. I will continue to work on that story that I posted the beginning of here. I’m going to keep on writing. Right now, that’s mostly what I have. I’ll have to figure everything else out, but for right now, I’m going to keep writing.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a lot of writing. Emotionally, it’s been difficult to motivate myself to do much more than want to hide under blankets and ignore the world. I’m now working on trying to do more. I’ve kind of gotten to the point where you wind up so stressed that your body starts to tell you. And I mean more than just insomnia.

I can’t see this state getting any better in the foreseeable future, so I’m going to do a brain dump. I feel so stressed now that I can arc lightning between my fingers. That’s pretty bad. Some of this might be stuff that I’ve talked about before in my spotty writing schedule. A lot of it won’t be. I feel the need to extract it all from my head.

New Year’s is supposed to be a time of great hope. What sort of awesome will this year bring?

Yeah… I’m not sure I even got a moment of that thinking, after all, 2015 ended so horribly. I still haven’t received pay from my paid writing gig. It’s something I love to do, and it really sucks and hurts to not get paid. This is especially true because writing means so much to me. My current more-off-than-on boyfriend decide his new girlfriend ranks higher than I do (BTW, this has been obvious twice more since then).

So, yeah… those are two huge things. I tried to make the best of it, but something else decided that it wasn’t meant to be.

So, what of these two other times I speak of (after all, the work thing is pretty self-explanatory)?

Well, even though we’re not really dating now, I still bought a Valentine’s gift for him. I don’t know why, maybe hopeful or wishful thinking. I don’t know. I did. He got me… nothing until I mentioned that I had something for him. I’m sure he got his girlfriend something, but I didn’t rank as important. Now, granted, this is supposition. I can’t prove this is the case. Given that I had to wait two months, it’s not boding well for him having thought about giving me anything.

The other was fairly recently… when he decided his overnight was more important than something he had planned to do. Something he and I talked about. This isn’t just shades of the original purpose of going to therapy, this is the exact reason why we’re in therapy in the first place. So, all that money that I’ve spent since last December is now flushed down the toilet. I can just hear my personal therapist when I see him next.

Of course, these aren’t the only things going on. These are the most immediate.

Because I’m not getting paid for the months of writing I did (and no real way for recourse, thanks for protecting artists, labor laws), I’m now looking for a job… doing the one thing I hate doing, office work. Hell, at this point, we’re so close to broke, I’m ready to say, “Fuck it!” and go back into retail. It’ll probably break me down so badly that I will barely be able to function, but I know that I could probably get a retail job easier than an office job where I live because of stupidly ridiculous requirement of a bachelor’s degree for answering a phone and greeting people.

This has been really gutting for me. I thought that I finally found a place where I could just write and be happy. I can’t. I’m looking for more writing jobs, but even technical writers need a background in it, even though I know I could do it and do it very well.

Frankly, at this point I feel so beaten down by life again (because 25 years of emotional/physical/sexual abuse wasn’t enough) that sometimes I wonder if I have any value. I wonder if I’m just a drain on those in my life.

God, writing those two sentences were hard… enough to bring tears to my eyes in a public place. Which for me is hard, I prefer to be stoic at worst.

I keep trying to think positively and find some sort of positive thinking to help me trudge on… I’m just not sure I can.

Hell, let’s be honest here… I pulled myself out of several deep, dark holes. I’ll pull out of this one. I haven’t killed myself or had my spirit broken yet. I’m a survivor. It’s all I know how to do.

OK, not all, but it feels like it now.

Thankfully, all is not doom and gloom (even though it feels that way).

I started a class last week about learning how to cope with all the stuff from my Complex PTSD (or CPTSD). I did manage to have a lovely, restful weekend… something I’ve been desperately needing for months. I’ve been putting out resumes, despite how little I think of myself right now. Something will come through, right? I’m also looking for group activities that are either intellectual, creative, or healthy/physical exertion in order to stop myself from self-isolating. It’s not healthy for me to isolate myself, even if my brain is telling me to do so.

I’ll just keep telling myself, “I’m a survivor. You’ve been through worse. You have people who care for you. You’re no longer alone.”

If I say that enough, maybe it’ll finally get through my thick skull.