Tag: inspiration

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skewed and chronic

Hello, my name is Natalie, and I live with chronic pain.  To be fair, I live with several chronic conditions, and pain is only one of them.  Recently, I’ve come to realized how skewed my pool of friends, loved ones and associates is toward those who share this living situation.

I’ve only been in the job I currently have for just shy of two years.  It’s the first job in a while where a fair number of my coworkers are as much as twenty years younger than I am, which doesn’t necessarily protect them from chronic pain, it just makes it less likely to have encountered it.

Several times in the last week or so, a coworker has asked me if I was “all better now” and I wasn’t sure how to answer them.  I am definitely better than I was in October when I got sidelined by the flare up of a pinched nerve, or better than I was in January when I had a cold, a sinus infection, a chest infection, etc, which knocked my sugar out of whack.

One coworker said, “You haven’t complained about X in a while, so you must not be in pain anymore.”

I laughed (you know, that laugh of the “have you met me?” variety) and joked that if I were ever not in some pain, I would assume I was dead.  He was baffled and horrified.  I tried to explain that my lower back, my knee, my wrists, elbows and shoulders, and my neck where all victims of various chronic conditions, which meant they would be calm for a while, but then something would cause them to flare up…that they were never gone, and that at any given moment, I am in pain somewhere.  That my normal status is this certain level of pain, which I can tolerate and function with.

He made this face, the kind people make when you tell them you’re ill.  I see it a lot.  But the thing is, they don’t comprehend that I’m not complaining, I’m not upset…I’m not asking for sympathy and I don’t need them to do anything.

I get it from others too.  This weird look, like a scared sympathetic, please god not me sort of thing that irritates me.  And even when I explain what these chronic conditions mean, that they will never be gone, the next time I come in limping because my lower back has decided to send an invading nerve impulse through my hip and into my leg, or I’m favoring my right arm, or what have you, they will act all surprised again and want to know what I’ve done to injure myself now.

But, you know what?  For all my aches and pains, I am a pretty happy person and I have a pretty amazing life.  I certainly wouldn’t trade any of my experiences for anything.  And now, it’s time for a second cup of coffee and to get this work day on it’s feet.

Happy Wednesday, Readers!

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a little pampering

I am not now, nor have I ever been what I would consider a “girly girl.” The one feature I’ve always allowed myself to be girly over is my hair, and even then, most of the time I just wear it up or braided and out of my way.

Every now and again though, I get this craving for getting my nails done and having someone other than me color my hair, and maybe doing more with my hair than just coloring it.

I’m in the middle of one of those times.

Last night I painted my nails, mostly as a way to satisfy the need without spending the time and money on going to a nail salon and getting tips and all that, which I always end up regretting.

On Thursday, I have an appointment with a new to me hair salon and a new to me hair person.  I need to have a couple inches hacked off and I need someone else to manage my color for a while.  We’ll see how long it lasts.

I haven’t decided what to do with the color yet, and I’m hoping this new to me hair person will help me decide.  Part of me wants to keep the green, part of me wants to go back to red.  Part of me wants to try something completely new!

Now all I need is to find a massage therapist and my pampering will be complete.

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when the wall comes down

Have you ever sat yourself down to write something, but the words just don’t come?  I think most writers have done battle with the brick wall that is writer’s block, and we all have our own ways of trying to break through.

I’ve been pretty fortunate in my life to almost always have several diverse projects going that I can switch gears and write something different to allow the blockage to clear.  I also have other artistic endeavors that help me get the fires going again.

When I was younger, I didn’t realize that not everyone has endless voices in their head telling them stories, not everyone could spin a tale out of a handful of facts, not everyone could never be lonely because of the cast of thousands in their head.  The very notion of writer’s block made no sense to me.  The words never stopped.  They sometimes were telling stories that I wasn’t actually trying to write, but then those were usually the best ones in the end.

Where I hit the wall though is when I have a specific topic that I need to write for, and a deadline, particularly if I’m dragging myself out of an engaging fiction to do it.  I found writer’s block when it came to essays and school papers and the like.

Sometimes you just have to soldier through it, squeeze out the words, even if they’re crap.  I usually find when I do that, that the edit and clean up is actually easier than the writing.  Then I usually reward myself with writing something fun.

Sometimes I wonder about those people who don’t have a bunch of voices in their head telling them stories…it must be a lonely existence, all alone in that head.

I think I’d go mad.

 

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imposter syndrome

Do you know what imposter syndrome is?  I don’t know a single creative who isn’t plagued by it at some point in their career, if not through their whole career. I am no different.

It usually hits about now, when I have submitted a book to an editor and I’m waiting for the return.  There’s this voice in the back of my head that starts whispering that this is it, this is the moment when everyone finds out that I’m a hack, that I can’t write my way out of a paper bag, my plots recycled, my characters flat.

This is it.  This is where it all ends.

Of course, it doesn’t actually end here.  In a week or so I’ll get my edits back with things I need to fix and notes on character or plot, along with notes of cheerleading from my editor and lots of exclamation marks around how much she loved it.

That will placate the voices for a while, until I’m ready to turn it in for publishing.  Then it all comes flooding back and it can be crippling.  This is when that voice accusing me of being an imposter is joined by all of those voices that show me the lack of external validation…”You can’t even get reviews on the first two, what makes you think anyone wants to read your drivel?”

Is it any wonder that creatives are such fragile creatures sometimes?

Lest you think that it’s just in my creative writing I suffer this madness, know that just this month I received a raise in my day job that puts me at a level I’ve never expected to reach, and still, at least twice a week I’m struck with absolute terror that they’re going to realize I’m just posing, that I don’t know what I’m doing (despite the evidence to the contrary) and put me out on the street.

The only cure I know is to just keep going, which is why I’m eight pages into the seventh chapter of my next book.  It feels good to be writing a new story in a new world and a different style.

Take that, voices.

 

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busy time of year

This is my busy time of year.  I have a full time job, of course.  I am working on writing one book, editing another and have several editing jobs on the horizon.  And, I work as the Community Partners Donations Team Manager for the San Francisco Pride festival.  Pride is just about two months away, and the donations team is just getting into full swing.

There are lots of small tasks I need to deal with and prepping of training materials, etc.  It’s a lot of work, but I do enjoy it.

I do, however, get a little frazzled sometimes.  When I get over tired, or have a night like last night where sleep was erratic, I can get grumpy.  What really makes me cranky though is when my writing time gets stolen by other tasks.  This week both of my jobs have done so.

I aim to try to keep up with posts here, on Facebook and on my Patreon page, but please forgive me if I miss a day.  My goal is to post here at least on Saturday and Wednesday, and on my Patreon at least Sunday and Wednesday.  I haven’t quite hit that, but I’ll get there.

In the meantime, here are some links to places you can find me.  I do hope you’ll stop by and say hi!

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let’s talk agoraphobia

Happy Friday, Readers!  It’s a wet, wet day here in San Francisco, but I’m safely in the office and the coffee is hot!

I thought I’d take a minute today and talk about one of the “issues” I battle everyday.  See, I’m an agoraphobic.  Taken literally, the translation from the greek means “fear of the marketplace” but since the world has evolved, so has this monster.

Agoraphobia can be seen as a spectrum of sorts, and people with agoraphobia can have intense fear, anxiety and even panic that keeps them from living their life the way they want to.

At its worst, agoraphobia can make a person housebound, unable to leave the safety of their home because of the fear.  Some are unable to move outside a specified “safety zone” without someone there to help them.

Psychology Today has a good article here.

Thankfully, mine is not that bad, though having people with me who know how to spot my panic attacks starting and how to help me through them is a blessing. I still manage to get my own groceries, I go to work (most days), and I travel.

But, every one of these things can induce anything from minor anxiety to heart stopping panic.  There are days I won’t even open my front door.  Days where just going to get the mail is a major achievement.  There are days when I think nothing of getting in the car and heading out into the unknown though too.

Like any other chronic condition, it is a constant part of who I am, but its severity and my ability to fight it change all the time, and because I also live with chronic pain, it can also affect and be affected by the levels of pain I am in.

On bad pain days, I spend all my energy battling pain, and I have nothing left to fight the phobia, so I generally stay within my safety space.  On days when the phobia is running high and I know I have to go out into the world anyway, there’s seldom anything left to manage my pain.

It can be a vicious circle.

I’ve come to terms with this being a part of who I am, and I have mental coping mechanisms that help me handle crowds, unknown spaces, etc.  Crowds are hard. Crowds require days of mental prep and days of hibernating after.  Sometimes they require pharmaceutical help.  I take a very low dose of Xanax when needed.

Yet, I go to concerts and conventions and conferences.  I get on trains that I know are going to be standing room only long before I get home.  It’s terrifying and it’s exhausting and if you asked most people around me they’d tell you that they had no idea I was terrified because I’ve learned to hide it.

Why?  Because I’m a stubborn bitch that refuses to let my misfiring brain keep me from things and people I love.  At least, not all the time.  Maybe someday, when I’m a doddering eighty year old writer with a library of books in my quiver, I can become a recluse, and eccentric cat lady who never goes out and never lets anyone in, other than my young, gorgeous assistant/nurse who makes sure I eat and take my meds.

So today, I won the battle, despite the rain and the messy commute and the people.  I’m at my desk and now my cup of coffee is empty, so it’s time to go search for more.

May your weekend be amazing!

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the path to perfection

I’m a writer.  Left to my own devices, I would probably never stop fiddling with a story.  I still find places in things I wrote twenty years ago that I’d change, fix, re-write, update, flesh out….you get the idea.

So there comes a point in every manuscript where I have to make myself take my hands off it and send it to my editor.  I’ve reached that point with Where Shadows Fall.

Later today I will be sending it off to my hard working editor who will correct all of my typos, point out the places where I don’t tie things together, ask me what was I thinking here, give me comments on characters and characterization and give me feedback on what’s missing, what needs more fleshing out and how to fill up that plot hole I didn’t even see.

When I get it back from her, I’ll be a step closer to ready to submit to my publisher.  Before submission, however, it’s my turn to use what she gives me to make the story shine.

Finishing this book is a milestone.  It ends the story begun in Through Shade and Shadow,  and closes off a chapter in my writing life.  There are so many stories bursting inside my head and I can’t wait to see where they take me next!

Now, to a cup of coffee and the day job.  Happy Wednesday, Readers!!

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the early morning quiet

I’m in the office over an hour earlier than normal this morning because I need to leave early to shoot some senior portraits for a lovely young lady. So early in fact, none of the restaurants down stairs were open when I got here.

The office is dark and quiet and I’m the only one here.  It’s times like these I enjoy, which is also why I love working from home and living alone.  The silence is pristine. and the quiet is very settling…which is good when you have a day as full as this one is going to be.

Over the weekend I spent a lot of time working on Where Shadows Fall, because the ending just wasn’t working for me.  It’s a lot better now, which brings us closer to the place where I get it off to the editor who will make it even better.

I also spent some time reconsidering an old story idea that has been hanging around the back corners of my brain since I was in my twenties.  May see if I can breathe some life into it.  Not sure it has the plot for a full novel though.  Possibly a novella.  We’ll see.

Sounds like the coffee is ready, and I should take advantage of this quiet while I can, so I’ll leave you here, my lovely readers.  I hope your Monday is filled with hope and wonder.

 

 

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knocked down

Ever have a cold hit you so hard, so fast that you went from “everything’s fine” to “somebody shoot me” in a single afternoon?

That’s what happened to me last week.  I went to work on Wednesday feeling pretty okay, if a little tired (but tired is a part of the wicked insomnia I’ve been dealing with) and it was around lunch time when I started to feel a little…off.

By 2pm, I knew I was getting sick and I left work early.  By the time I got home, I was coughing, congested, and so tired I could have laid down on the street for a nap.

I was in bed by 6:30 pm that night, and when I woke up before my alarm, I knew there was no way I was going anywhere but back to bed.  I called in sick both Thursday and Friday and spent those two days plus Saturday and Sunday doing a lot of laying around on my bed and couch.

I was supposed to go into San Francisco on Sunday to shoot senior portraits for the daughter of a friend, but had to postpone that.  I was lost in the fuzzy head brain fog that comes with severe congestion, so no writing or editing got done.

It feels like I lost a week of my life.  But, I finally made it into work this morning.  I’m still beset by a hacking cough and head congestion, but it’s all starting to work it’s way out.  Which is good.  I have a life to get back to!

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international womens day

So, today is International Women’s Day and it makes me wonder what exactly that means and what is the best way to celebrate it?

I mean, some of the stuff I’ve read this morning sounds good: we’ve got women walkouts in Spain, shutting down major commute options, we’ve got protests and such all over as women demand equal pay for equal work and other such things.

I know I’ve been pretty lucky as a woman.  I haven’t dealt with sexual harassment or discrimination, I have always received pay equal to the job I do.  For a long time, that blinded me to the fact that these things happen to other women.  But, here we are in 2018 and we’re still fighting something that should have been defeated years ago.

Can you imagine if women just stepped out, really stepped out…all over the world, for one day, not a single woman did anything to benefit anyone but themselves.  Every woman: every government official, every female on any board, every C-level executive, every manager, supervisor, every garment worker, every transportation worker, every teacher, nurse, doctor, lawyer, judge, every line cook, chef, waitress, receptionist, administrator, every janitor, cashier, delivery person, every wife, mother, sister, daughter…can you picture that?

Look around you for a minute, and imagine your world without women.  We are everywhere. We work hard.  We play hard.  We rise to the occasion.

So ladies, let us rise.  Let us lift up our sisters instead of tearing them down.  Let us fight with them, not against them. Let us rejoice in their victories.  Let us demand, with one voice, that we receive our due: equal pay, equal protections, equal education, adequate healthcare by doctors who will not dismiss our pain because we are women, equal protection from crime and equal investigative power when we are victims of crimes, equal representation.

Power is not give, ladies.  Power is taken.