Posts Tagged ‘keep calm and write something’

“I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.”   –Jack London

I am walking a fine line between keeping my shit together, and hitting my breaking point. Literally the first week after my return was a series of bad news: health stuff, car stuff, work stuff, personal stuff – everything. There have been a few points that I’ve just crawled into bed, willing to accept defeat and not deal with the outside world anymore. My health is a giant mess, and probably the biggest problem since I’ve returned from Orlando. I pushed off a lot of appointments, tests, procedures, etc until after my vacation, so I wouldn’t be sore and so I wouldn’t be stressed about results of anything. But the day after I came back, I saw the nephrologist for my kidneys, because they’re being damaged, and it’s only gotten worse from there. But I will do a proper post on that junk separately once I know a little bit more about what’s going on. youwillfeel Yet, despite everything, I am trying to continue forward. Writing and drawing and working on my photography, like I should be. I won’t pretend, though, that there haven’t been days I’ve doubted myself, and thought that maybe it is time to grow up and be a responsible adult, go for something else in school, and get a real career instead of relying on all these dreams. But something about that changed on Friday, when my mom had mentioned to someone (that doesn’t know me) all of the things I do outside of my day job, and all of the accomplishments I had so early on. When the person asked me why I’m not actively pursuing my writing and everything, I shrugged and told them “I am, but I just work too much.”

And that has been eating at me. When did I really become that person?

My health and my dreams and my relationships all suffer because I work too much. At what point did a job I took to just make a little extra money become four years of my life and my main focus? Because this is not what I want to be doing the rest of my life. Not even close. Yet, here I am.

I can very easily compare it to the Jack London quote at the beginning of this post. I am rotting. I am becoming dust. I used to feel like I was becoming someone, and I let it all start slipping away. I’m ashamed of myself for it. I would much rather be ashes than dust. I would rather live than exist. And if my spark is to die out, I’d rather it be after a brilliant blaze than suffocated in rot.

Well, I'm 24, but still.

Well, I’m 24, but still.

I’m not afraid of dying at this point. I’m afraid of just existing, instead of living. I’m afraid that my time will suddenly be up, and I won’t have anything to show for it. The travels help. The occasional little steps forward in writing and art and photography help. But I’m ready for really feeling like I’ve done something.

It’s time to dust myself off and keep going. Everything will be okay.

~Angel

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Accurate representation is accurate:

BeginGiveUp

 

That’s a fairly good summary of not only how I feel today, but how I’ve been feeling about writing in general lately. Like everything is garbage I try to write. I can’t actually give focus to any projects. Everything starts out so promising..

ItBeganLongAgo

Then it becomes a bit more:

NOPE

I guess I’m just going to make myself free write until my brain can kick start itself into functioning properly again. Come on, Muse. What’s the hold up?

Muse3

….Alrighty then.

~Angel

 

So, some of you may already be aware of the fact I had my very first rheumatology appointment on Tuesday. I’ve been so worn out, Ipromise haven’t had the chance to update you. To sum it up fairly simply:

Lots and lots of tests. Twenty tubes of blood drawn. Trying to rule out lots of things: fibromyalgia, Chronic Fatigue, Lupus, horrible “c” word which shall not be named, etc. So far, from the lab work I’ve seen and my regular doctor looked at, I’m coming up positive for some sort of connective tissue disease. But what I’m going to end up with as a diagnoses is really up in the air still. I have a follow-up the 26th to go over my labs and see what the next steps will be, or if she has any answers for me.

And while I’m scared to death it’s going to be something life-altering, no cure, or fatal – I am very relieved about something: I’m not crazy. Well, not about this (ha.)

I have PROOF of something being wrong with these test results. There is something here that shows I’m not lying, and it isn’t all in my head. The Mysterious Sickness of Doom may have a NAME. You have no idea the relief that brings me.

Only now I have to keep from worrying myself to death that it’s something that’ll take me out sooner rather than later.

In other news, I’m slowly but surely getting through the revisions on my WIP. My Beta reader is keeping me motivated by taking on a chapter at a time, and I have to keep up by getting these chapters ready. So far, so good. And really, I’ve been needing this outlet to make me relax with the large amount of stress hitting me in the face. Keep Calm and Write Something. It’s that simple.

Anyway, I’m off. Much to do.

~Angel

I’m afraid because I know I cannot fight forever.

Between stress and sickness, I’m starting to meet my match. Mortality is slapping in the face and reminding me of just what I stated above: I cannot fight forever. I am a strong individual, but I cannot hold up to constant attempts to drag me down. Nobody can. Eventually, something has to give. I will crumble and break, and at this rate, it will be sooner rather than later.

I ended up staying home from work today. Which is a big deal, really, when you consider the fact that I’ve been working crazy hours even when I’ve had fevers, blood gushing out of my ear canal, been vomiting my guys out, and been in so much pain I could barely move – BUT STILL CONTINUED WORKING. But between stress and being miserable and knowing I’d probably die if I attempted to go in… Yeah. It was a day I had to choose to put health first. Which sort of bit me in the ass, and I’m sure I’ll have to pay for it tomorrow. But you know what? I don’t care. Not anymore.

I’m learning to live my life a different way, slowly but surely. I have to make choices based on what’s best for me in the end, and it’s gotten very difficult to figure out exactly what IS best for me. What should my priorities be? What needs to be put first? I cannot do everything, not like I used to.

It sounds like a change of subject, but it really isn’t – but there is a song from WICKED called “Defying Gravity” that I’ve fallen in love with. It’s hard to explain without ruining part of WICKED for anyone who hasn’t seen it, but it’s basically a very self-empowering song, where Elphaba makes her choice to live by what she deems right and not doing what she’s told anymore, even if it’s scary to make that choice. I want to get a tattoo based off this song, I love it so much. I’m not going to get into it very much right now, because I plan to do a post on it alone in the coming weeks.

The point is, this song is my anthem. This song is giving me the boost I need to make the choices I must. Which includes my decision to stop letting excuses stop me from chasing my dreams. I may not be able to do as much as I could before, but even baby steps will be better than nothing. So, little by little, every day, I’ve been trying to accomplish at least a little something that has nothing to do with the day job or house work or adult responsibilities etc. Be it writing, even just a little bit, or reading, or booking shoots, or editing pictures I’m behind on. Or, like today, posting a blog entry and sitting and editing my manuscript to get it ready for beta readers. Getting myself steps closer to achieving a dream. And it feels good. Damn good.

I’ve spent the most part of my day curled up in bed, in and out of a feverish daze, either crying from stress or trying to sleep. Until I finally got tired of being whiney about everything that was wrong and decided to crack open the old laptop, pull up my Work In Progress and my notes on it, and start editing once more. You know what? It feels amazing. I feel amazing. Because for that long, I can zone out of this world and be in that one. I can leave behind the stress of this world and the physical pain and discomfort, and just work on what makes me happy. The distraction is good for me. I’ve missed my old friend Writing. My cure for the bad things, even now.

Just goes to show I should follow my own advice: Keep Calm and Write Something.

Well, time to jump back into my writerly LaLa Land. 🙂

~Angel

I’m supppppposed to be writing out a list of things I need to do before my trip to Orlando next month. (Oh, did I not mention this? I’ll explain later..)

But instead, it’s PROCRASTINATION BLOG TIME! WOO!

Of Not-So-Good-Days:

I’ve been moody the past several days, thanks to silly people and their desire to drag me way, way down for whatever reason. But it’s cool, I can take it. I’ve heard worse, really. Definitely been through worse. It just starts to get pretty annoying  and eventually starts to bring you down. Oh joy, that’s what I really need right now: even more stress and reasons to mope about.

But, luckily for me, I’ve been building up this nifty little thing called strength since I was a kid.Once upon a time I had antidepressants, then didn’t want to take medicine to feel normal. Then I developed a not so great habit that I still don’t feel completely comfortable to share. Luckily, I did end up kicking it (go me), though I don’t believe it will every really be gone. When I was 20, after dealing with a pretty rough year, I decided I needed something to remind me of that. So, I had ‘Strength’ tattooed on my right wrist so I could see it any time I started to doubt myself. It’s not that I need some silly reminder. But when I start to feel like maybe everything is hopeless, maybe I should give up and change my course, I know somewhere inside of me is the strength to overcome. I can see that bold black ink on my skin, a constant reminder of  “You can do this” just for me. Because there are worse things in life, and because I’ve been through worse myself. I can do this. I can make it.

I hate it when I get down on myself. I’m really my own worst enemy, above anyone else in the world. I can shrug off haters. I can ignore petty people and doubters. But my own mind? Yikes. Keep it away from me. Because it seems to know exactly what to say to drag me into my own little hell and make me never want to leave my bed again. But that’s where the whole strength thing comes back into play: I overcome. I pick up my pieces, dust my shoulders off, and keep going. I tend to become angry, or more likely determined to press onward. It’s very, very rare that I just give up and mope about in my own self pity. I battle my depression with all the force I can, and usually win out. It’s something I’m extremely proud of. It’s the most beautiful thing about me. It’s what keeps my body alive, my soul beautiful, and my eyes reflecting that.

I. Am. Strong.

Writing has been one of the healthiest releases for me when I’m trying to overcome any anxiety or depression. Like the image says – Keep Calm and Write Something. Yeah, yeah. It’s a rip-off of the whole ‘Keep Calm and Carry On’ thing. But still – it works for how I feel. Working on a piece of art has a similar way of releasing all the bad things from me – I turn up some music and get messy, and for at least that long I can breathe without an ache in my chest and not have to focus on all the bad.And in times when that just won’t cut it – I clean like a crazy person. (I hadn’t noticed I clean when I’m upset until it was pointed out to me some time ago. Go figure.)

That’s the kind of thing I always recommend to people: find a hobby (a non-destructive, illegal, or otherwise bad hobby mind you) that you’re passionate about and let that be your escape.  Some people have writing of whatever form, some listen to music, some clean, some go for walks/runs, some paint or draw or sculpt or whatever. Create something better instead of doing something negative. Accomplish something. That’s what seems to work – not hiding your hurt in some pile of useless vices on those not-so-good-days.

The Mysterious Sickness of Doom:

I’ve been making a slight improvement health wise, but nothing as grand as everyone else seems to believe. Eh, whatever. I’ve started working a few hours a day again in hopes of keeping my job (the threat of replacement was lingering in the air), and have slowly but surely started taking on photography projects again (see previous post).

But still no real answers. Still no signs of my previous self.

Why AM I going to Orlando?!:

Hogwarts, my dear lovelies. That’s why.

~Angel