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.

Poem

Writing Friday

Writing. Crap. What do I say? Do I sit here and try to explain that, at least for me, writing is something akin to breathing? That there’s never been a time when I didn’t need to put words together? And then I would have to tell you just how it feels to read what I wrote and think that I am not cut out for this. How many people who I know personally who are brilliant at this whole writing gig. Still… I would have to mention that the idea of stopping is actually painful. It has been how I was able to see the answers to life, since before I ever realized that there was a question.

Usually, I try to use the Friday post to give tips, and help with the whole writing and publishing thing. And I think that is great to keep the blog going… But today I was thinking about the reason why I write. Yeah… I could probably claim that I was trying to add beauty. But I don’t generally lie. My art is more how I do beauty. Abstract and pencil drawings to encourage happiness in the eye of the beholder. My children’s books are a way of connecting with my daughter, as they have thus far been stories I told her, or wrote for her. Serena’s stuff is stories that I want to read. But if I am honest with myself… My main writing is my poetry.

My poetry will never be hallmark stuff. My poetry is raw emotion and survival. I have lived a survivors life. My poetry is how I have been able to express myself even when my voice was stolen. I could write my story… Even though I was being told I lied. I could write it and it was accepted because it was poetry. It was written in a way that meant I was non-threatening to those who were part of hurting me. And it was written off as just an angsty teen writing depressing poetry… For don’t we all have that stage?

After I was free, and I was no longer needing verse to speak my truth, well it was still the easiest way to speak my pain. To spread my views. It was habit. I may never be able to sit along with the likes of Poe or Dickenson… But my words will remain. I will be there when another lost soul seeks to know that they are not alone.

Day five

poem a day challenge

Prompt a private poem.

This one is a bit of a thing for me. I don’t believe in secrets. I am a survivor of childhood sexual abuse. The word secret carries some tough pain with it. Please if it has to be a secret, don’t do it…

Scheduled hopes.

So… In the past I have been awful about updating this blog. I am hoping that if I do a bit of a schedule it may help. So I decided to post my plan… Please be patient with me as I may still lapse.

Monday : poems. That will be the day when I share any poetry that I feel like sharing.

Tuesday : teasers. I have a children’s chapter book that I am working on currently, and Serena has her second book in her zombie apocalypse series. This is when I will be sharing teasers and updates on the work we are doing.

Wednesday : webcomics! This is going to be where I discuss webcomics and perhaps other fandoms.

Thursday : Reviews. Both tech and books. I am a geek who reads a lot. I really need to start doing a review segment on here.

Friday : writing helpers. This is where I will be talking about the technical difficulties that come with writing.

I am not scheduling weekends. And I may end up posting random other than the schedule… Cause life. You get it, I am quite sure. Also I may be less accurate to the schedule in November. I am doing the pad challenge and Serena is doing Nanowrimo. So I don’t know how much extra time for blogging I will have. But I will be posting. Just figure it will be less than I am hoping for.

Utility App review

So I have been asked for reviews on the apps I use in both my writing and in my art….I figure that it will help me with content for this blog, so here goes. I do much of my writing on Android devices. If I use either laptop or computer it would be a version of office. However, on android I often need access to notes or easier methods for organization of what I write. I have found a couple of apps that are wonderful for this. Today I am going to give a review on my favorite of them.

notebooks pro is a premium app. It’s not real expensive and there is a free version. I found it so useful that I wanted the full version.

It is extremely flexible and allows for you to create books for writing in.

You can add attachments (pictures) and each page is unlimited. I set up my poetry volume with a number of pages equal to the poems that I want in the finished volume.

You can back it up in dropbox, Google drive or locally… And restore it from any of the three.

Honestly, this is one of my better writing apps. It allows you to export as a pdf or you can copy and paste the text.

I highly recommend it for any one who writes on the go.

Why I won’t be doing Camp nanowrimo

I surround myself with other writers. It allows me to feel understood… And it helps me to do better. The only time I regret that is during the two times that NanoWrimo is a thing.

Everyone around me suddenly expects me to join the writing push. I always do the Pad challenge, and I cannot do the pad challenge and guarantee the word count for the other challenge. And I hate setting myself up to fail.

Some of my friends get this, others however seem to feel like it is a personal affront to them that I refuse to sign up. I am a poet first, the other writing is not life or death if I never write another story. However if I cannot write poetry I am losing a part of my soul.

So dear writing friends… Though I understand why you want to join the fun, can you please not be mad about my staying out to enjoy the PAD challenge? I swear that I am not trying to tell you not to enjoy your challenge. I am merely trying to do one of my own.

Thx, bye now.

Creative kindness

Creative folks are sensitive, and often it’s the little things that send us into waves of self doubt and wavering, crushing questions about our own worth.
Now I am not claiming that you should not be honest with those folks. Quite the opposite. Just be aware that jumping a creative soul for a miscommunication is likely to cause them to question their own worth. Their own value and whether the work that they they do is worth showing to the world.
So before jumping off the deep end when you are dealing with a creative soul, consider if they were aware of how things went on the other end? Consider asking instead of jumping on them. Because if you are wrong, you will result in them questioning their own worth. Questioning whether they have anything worth putting out into a busy world.
In all things please, be kind first. You don’t know who’s life it might save. And if you decide that you dislike what they have created? Again answer with kindness. Telling the creative to go kill themselves, well the likelihood of them taking it to heart is high. Think before you speak. Or risk the death of another creative soul.

Be kind to each other, for the human race needs one another.

Capability vs self worth

(Picture borrowed from Debbie Burns, head unicorn and founder of Debbieburns.me all rights to it are hers)

My writing mentor posted this picture earlier. It brings up a topic that I believe I would like to try and tackle. I have no doubt of how capable I am. I am aware of my strengths, my flaws, and the areas I need to work on. Still I have moments where I question my worth.

Now I could blame my past for that doubt. Claim that I am flawed because no one has ever seen my worth….but I really hate that. It is possible to both know your capability and to doubt your worth. I am a strong and open minded individual, still I struggle. I don’t see what others claim is talent. I see a lifetime of fighting. Of me trying to be half of what those around me said I was.

I struggle because this is the path I see. I stuggle because I refuse to quit. Perhaps the above is true, perhaps some can see the ability within and it will set them free…still not all of those who are struggling fail to see their own capability. I am a strong woman, I have a generous heart. I am creative, with a quick mind. I am a survivor who has learned to be more….still I have days when I don’t understand the love everyone around me has for the broken soul I am. Days when I am the one that sees too much of life and has no way of processing it.

This is just part of being me. Those who love me generally understand those days. They are quick to reach to help me understand why I am loved. And even then I understand my capability…even as I have no understanding of my self worth.

Kindness and cruelty

I struggle to see myself as others do. I can list my flaws innumerable. I logically know that I am not what my mental gremlins say. I am not selfish, nor cruel…not intentionally anyway. Still there are those days where I expect more out of people simply because it is something that I can do. I am a poor uneducated woman who is more than a little crazy. I am in constant pain due to physical issues. Still I show up, I do what needs done, and I move on. So on the occasion that I need to remind myself that I am not normal….well I find myself also reminding myself to be kind.

Kindness is not just for the rest of humanity. Sometimes the person who needs your kindness most is yourself. My writing coach, the Amazing Debbie Burns, gave me a couple of methods of dealing with the negative thoughts. One involves listing 100 words about yourself. You then relace negative words with positive ones. This is meant to try to get the brain to replace them when you think about self. We have to try and train ourselves to keep the mental gremlins at bay. Still after a lifetime of self abuse, it is not terribly easy to see the good that everyone else does.

So I will continue to do my word lists to help me see the bright light shining. I will start with the words I did above. “poor uneducated crazy” are all three replaceable. Yes, I have money woes but I have food, I have clothes, I have shelter. So I am content. There see one word replaced. Uneducated is not true. I have my high school diploma. I have taught myself computer programming in c#. I have studied several other things independently. So I can replace that with self educated. Now only one word remains. Crazy. Ugh it is the hardest. After all, I am struggling with mental illness. I am aware of the stigmas. I think perhaps for that I should use the word Unique.

So what words do you say about yourself that perhaps you need to change? I would encourage everyone to examine the labels we use to define ourselves, and in turn the labels we call others.