Category: Mental Health

Thursday Tea Party

Hello lovelies! Tonight, I have coffee instead of tea… And lots of it. I am in the home stretch for Beauty’s Tears – only 9 poems left to write. I am hoping to knock out the writing before the first. I likely will not be getting to Layout until December, but it means that Heart Drops will be started with the poems of the PAD challenge.

Fae Corps will be doing another round of daily prompts in November. I will probably be reblogging many of them. The first group got a good reception so we decided to do them for nano/poetry writers in November.

I have been approached by another poet/author about doing a guest blog. Her idea intrigued me! So I will be posting it as soon as she gets it to me for you to read. I enjoy her poetry so I believe that you will enjoy the post.

So… I am facing my fears… And then some. I asked about doing a author signing event yesterday. I also have found a craft fair to try and sell my art and crafts at. This is such a big thing. I have been making art, jewelry, and resin pieces. And due to fear, I have been sticking it all in bins. Anxiety often keeps me from doing. I was called out for my bs. Joe, my boyfriend, told me that if I was not going to do anything to sell or use it then I should stop making it. I hate it when he is right. So I am swallowing the what if I fail fear. The first craft show is a local hot dog sale on the first Saturday in November. I have to get to earning money for books for the signing event. I personally have 19 poetry volumes, 3 kids books, and a memoir. Plus Serena’s 2. And the anthology. That makes it expensive to have even a small amount of copies to sell. Those numbers just make me want to cry.

The beginning of the year will be seeing a lot of new things, from me and from Fae Corps. We have a lot planned. I will be seeing the release of my Beauty’s Tears and the anthology Faery Footprints in December. I am hoping that Serena will have a book ready for release with the new year. I am looking at the release of the audiobook version for the princess lost.

This year is still going to be bringing new challenges. What are you hoping to do before the end of 2019?

Thursday Tea Party

Today is a coffee day. So much on my mind today, and no where near enough sleep.

Did you see that my bestie has a new book out? You can get it here. I am so proud of her. She worked really hard to get it out.

I applied, and was accepted, for a position with Coffee House Writers. I will be doing a bi-weekly article for them. My anxiety is through the roof. After all what do I write? Especially for the first one. After I get used to it, I don’t think that it will be as bad. The article has to use 5 of their tags… Which are expansive, but I am not one who is used to conformity with tags. I am stuck in a debate whether to write an article, a story, or a poem. It is so much to think on.

Have you preordered Inspiration Without a Home yet? It releases on the 30th of September. It is a hard story for me, my own. Memoirs are never easy to write. This was not any different.

I have been working on my studio. I nearly have all craft and art supplies moved in. I still have to organize it. I will be posting pictures as I get it useable.

Social anxiety is no joke. I have jewelry pieces and paintings to sell. I have an online store but it is not as active as I would like. I think it is due to me not being as good at taking pictures of what I make. My resin pieces and art always look so much better in person. I can get a table at the local flea market for $5 a day. The problem is that I am terrified that I will make a mess of selling it. So I may be putting out time and money for a fail. I love making the pieces. But I am often putting a lot of money into crafting with no return. So I am planning to do the flea market the first weekend in October.

Familiar Friday

Today I am tired. I wanted to do a post, but I just need to take a break. I got approved to write for Coffee House Writers. My partner just released her first YA Novel. We have been dealing with both vehicles going down at once, and the riding lawn mower broke a belt. Add in changing out a broken dishwasher in my kitchen and it has been a busy week.

Now I don’t like to give excuses, you deserve a post. So I figure that I will share some of the inspiration memes I have. Back to the normally scheduled posts on Monday.

Monday musings

I know that I usually post poetry on Monday, but the last week has been a rough one for me and creating. Between a death in the family, that hit rather hard, and general aches and pains… This week has been a lot of “couch time”…basically me and my television have seen more of each other than I ever do.

There is always a little slow down after I publish a new volume. When I wonder if I am foolish and vain for publishing. When I acknowledge that I don’t do well with pushing the books that I already have out. When I wonder who I would be if I didn’t write. When the idea scares me, so I try to force it… And end up scraping a few really bad foced starts. This is the first month after I publish a new volume.

Then, I start actually calming down… Realize that I don’t have to sell it. I have written it. I have put it out into the world so that it can be seen. I have done my part. It is my job to write, not to force anyone to read it. Those who are meant to be be my readers will find it, as long as I keep sharing. Which I have been doing a bit more of. I have been putting my poetry on graphics and putting more on my blog, and Instagram. I have a public album on Facebook and a board on Pinterest. In the meantime what that time of panic and reflection often means is that I have nothing worth sharing today, except for the view of my weirdo neurotic mind. Some like that view though, so I decided to share.

Tuesday Tunes

Unlike Pluto – Villain in my own Story

Lyrics –

I was the one who wanted nothing
I was the one who lived in pain
I was the one who strived for nothing
I was the one who stood in rain
I feel like I’m no good I should run away
I feel like failure’s one step ahead of me
Fuck all the people with the Bentley’s with their nice lives
Fuck all the people in the mansions with their bright skies
Fuck all the people sitting pretty with their sane minds
Fuck, think I’m becoming the villain of my story
I am the one that’s holding grudges
I am the one that lives in pain
I am the one who’s out of touch and
I am the one inflicting pain
I feel like I’m no good I should run away
I feel like failure’s one step ahead of me
Fuck all the people with the Bentley’s with their nice lives
Fuck all the people in the mansions with their bright skies
Fuck all the people sitting pretty with their sane minds
Fuck, think I’m becoming the villain of my story
And I’ve been the bad guy for so long, I’m growing tired
Is it too damn late to twist the plot to turn it round

My two cents –

I have been doing a lot of thinking about perspective lately. Especially since writing my memoir. We are all the villain in someone else’s story. When we become the villain in our own story is when we start to change. I know that my story as seen by others was different than it was for me. I can’t speak from their point of view. I can only speak my truth. So, when I tell my story… It will always be shaded by my perception. How it affected me. How it changed me. I try to look at others perspective, but it is not easy with some situations.

Inspiration without a home is a memoir. My story. It is not completely linear… Nor should it be. There is stories about abuse, about rape. There is a life in those pages. Not a good life, but one lived. That life created the woman I am today. And I am at least remotely sure that I was the villain of some of the story as told by others.

Random thoughts of poetry.

Now I normally don’t do this. I don’t explain my poetry, or my art, because I think that most people see what they want to in anything creative. I feel like explanation ruins a piece. To be honest this post is not entirely an explanation… But rather an aside. I have been thinking a lot lately about accountability. About guilt and mistakes. About what I am responsible for in my life and what regrets I should have and what it all means.

I have thought about the regrets that others have expressed towards me. I find that I have very few actual regrets. Each of my choices I made with all of the knowledge that I had at the time. I have revisited some of them later… And hindsight makes regret easy… If you let it.

The problem comes in when you allow regret to consume your conscience. We are as a society, cold. We have lost the conscience. We have lost the knowledge of good and evil, or the will to care. When prison actually looks better than trying to make your way in this miserable world…lives of others no longer matter. That is not a mental illness thing… It is a wake up call.

We have a society where you can work 60+ hours a week and still not be able to afford to pay rent. We live in a society where there is often no way of breaking even, much less getting ahead. Where hate and violence is broadcast nightly on the news. So I have to wonder how we as a society can fix this? How can we take responsibility for the problem and fix it?

Tuesday Tunes

Hello my lovelies! Thank you all for your understanding and well wishes yesterday. I am not back to 100% but I am doing better. This weekend was a lot of me sleeping to recover. Today’s song took me some thinking. I like to use songs that have meaning to me, beyond just me liking it. That way I can perhaps encite a discussion, or try to. So there were several that popped to mind due to indepence day being this week…the one that won the spotlight in my mind isn’t some patriotic theme.

Today I want to talk about Independence Day by Martina McBride.

Well she seemed all right by dawn’s early light
Though she looked a little worried and weak.
She tried to pretend he wasn’t drinkin’ again
But daddy’d left the proof on her cheek.
And I was only eight years old that summer
And I always seemed to be in the way
So I took myself down to the fair in town
On Independence Day.

Well ,word gets around in a small, small town
They said he was a dangerous man
But mama was proud and she stood her ground
But she knew she was on the losin’ end.
Some folks whispered and some folks talked
But everybody looked the other way
And when time ran out there was no one about
On Independence Day.

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing
Let the whole world know that today
Is a day of reckoning.
Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong
Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay
It’s Independence Day.

Well, she lit up the sky that fourth of July
By the time that the firemen come
They just put out the flames
And took down some names
And send me to the county home.
Now I ain’t sayin’ it’s right or it’s wrong
But maybe it’s the only way.
Talk about your revolution
It’s Independence Day.

Let freedom ring, let the white dove sing
Let the whole world know that today
Is a day of reckoning.
Let the weak be strong, let the right be wrong
Roll the stone away, let the guilty pay
It’s Independence Day.

Roll the stone away
It’s Independence Day.

This song is so powerful. The lyrics speak so much about the other side of Domestic Violence. The side of those who are helpless, just watching and having no way of stopping that speeding mess.

Thursday Straight Talk (a day early)

Tw: mention of abuse, suicide, and rape.

I have ptsd. This is not something that I tend to talk about often because it has a stigma attached. I get claustrophobic. I hyperventilate. I dissociate. I struggle with the urge to hide. I am an insomniac. I am a survivor. None of the things I have listed make me a bad person. Most are the result of trauma and of keeping myself so hypervigilant for so long. I see a doctor. I take meds. Some days are better than others. I have learned coping methods. I have learned to be aware of my triggers. No I am not a snowflake. No I don’t have to have a safe place. I don’t even know what a safe place is. I take life one day at a time. I have panic moments as so many people do. They are from knowing that real monsters exist in this world. Monsters that hide in human skin. I am not suicidal. I really don’t want to die. However on my bad days I find that I wish I had never been born. I struggle with telling my story. I spoke my truth. I was called a liar. I came forward with one piece… And was not believed. I only told one person, because I was a child. If a child tells you their pain… Believe them. For you may be the only one they tell. My journey has been long. I was so fractured that I had at one point nearly 13 separate “alters” I am down to two. I used to have nightmares nightly. I am down to on average twice a month. Struggling with this does not make me less. I have come an amazingly long way… From losing months of time to now I lose an hour rarely. I am healing.

This is not something that I expected to post, if I am honest. I am careful about letting this all be “known” because I have others in my life that I know are embarrassed when the topic comes up. I have no reason for embarrassment. I am not ashamed of who I am. But, I love them. So I hold my tongue sometimes. However, I have been thinking about it. Perhaps it is not the right thing to do. I think that perhaps sharing the struggle might be more helpful for others who are struggling. I don’t know if I will share the details, yet.

I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. The man who did it abused others. He served time for one, and only one, of his victims. He has never been to court for what he did to me.

I survived a gang rape. And I survived another rape.

I survived domestic violence, by more than one of my relationships. My current love is the first time I have not been physically abused by the man in my life.

I have been homeless. I have been without food. I learned how to survive in each of these cases.

I have done things that I was not proud of. Hasn’t everyone? So, if I have a bad day… I might post some depression memes on social media. My poetry may get a bit darker. My art angrier.

Still. I survive. I am always here ready to listen. I understand what survival costs. Some days are better than others. Today I did not sleep. My mind would not quiet. Today my mind was attacking me with my faults in litany. Tomorrow may be better.

I know that this is published on Wednesday. I will post the art for Wednesday a day late because I think that this is important.

If you need support right now, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, the Trevor Project at 1-866-488-7386 or text “HOME” to 741-741. Head here for a list of crisis centers around the world.

If you or a loved one is affected by sexual abuse or assault and need help, call the National Sexual Assault Telephone Hotline at 1-800-656-4673 to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.