People griping me out for not being published yet- my publisher, my psychologist, my DAD… O_O
That’s right, my DAD, the old Mennonite who wants me to pull his gold teeth out of his head with a pliers after he dies. ermahgerd The convo I had with him last Friday was insane and eye opening, two long hours of poking out my eyeballs and banging my head on various walls. But he completely supports me, an astonishing surprise that’s had me reeling the entire weekend.
That just gave me an idea for a Christmas present. Scott keeps bugging me about what I want. Click this to go get some yourself.
Before I do anything else, I’ve got to get this Bluejacky thing *done*. It’s my Mt. Everest, and the air is so thin up here (I’m nearly at the top now after a lifetime of anguish) that I can barely breathe. The world looks so tiny down there, and once I leap off I’ll be way up in the sky all by myself, tacking through jet streams and running the breezes. (I’m learning sailing/nautical terminology for a cool story I’ve had going on the side for a few years). I don’t mean to sound so dramatic, but just the thought of a hard core interview is terrifying.
I’m a hermit, tucked away in my cave. Since I first came out public on the internet in 2008 about who I really am, I’ve heard privately from a number of people literally around the world about heavy things they live with and can’t bear to say out loud. I have been surprised at how many people around this globe have silently followed me through everything I do because I brave the dreaded conflict and dare to deal with some things head on in public. I’ve gotten emails and private messages for years from people struggling with mental health diagnoses, autoimmune disorders, sexual angst, abusive relationships, suicide questions…
I intimately know what it’s like to lurk in the greasy back alleys of black despair. I KNOW what it’s like to live without hope, longing for even a taste of joy an a hollow emptiness that renders philosophical debates about life into oblivion. I know what it’s like to live believing nothing good will ever happen again.
I’m no expert, but I’m here to say it’s possible to make it through ALL that and spring forth with joy. I’m not selling salvation, I haven’t been brainwashed or drugged, I’m not hanging on to a psychotic belief in anything like I’ve seen so many people do when they reach the end of their ropes and think they have nowhere else to turn.
What I have is what I was born with- a lack of empathy, a blunt list of questions, and a gift for words. What I need *right now* is a realistic time pressure. Can I get this done before The Walking Dead returns in February? Because I’m gonna roll with TWD next year, after holding out all this time. In the meantime, another crazy roller coaster ride through the holidays around here and maybe the reason I’m not on the keyboard is because I’m plugging my fingers into my ears and singing LALALALALALALA. If you wanna see real evidence of my change of heart on video, here you go. I look like a dork, but who doesn’t, right? Best way to deal with severe social anxiety is head on. Surprisingly, I don’t have a problem with the camera part, or the talking part, so people don’t understand me at all when I say I have anxiety, which, yes, is medically documented as being pretty severe. See my last post for an explanation of sorts.