When you need a vacation from your second job but your hobby has turned into a third job

Okay, so Pixabay didn’t exactly have an image with a woman in scrubs, a woman in casual clothes, and a woman in SCA garb all together. Let’s just pretend that’s what’s going on in the above picture.

This weekend, I decided to take a mini vacation from both my day job and my writing. I needed that small break (and besides, yesterday, if you remember, was my anniversary). The SCA event we went to was not as relaxing as I had hoped, though, and I’m getting back to that feeling of “obligation” moreso than “hobby” or “volunteering.” It was like okay, I agreed to do the thing so I’ll do the thing, but what I really wanted to do was spend the day with my husband.

It would have been okay, but he got busy with autocrat stuff (he’s co-hosting an event in a couple of months) and I got a rash from the grass at the site and ended up falling dead asleep in the car for a good solid hour courtesy of the Benadryl I took. I barely saw him all day, and for our anniversary dinner he invited a lot of people, so it wasn’t as intimate as I would have liked for our anniversary. In fact, he sat with his back slightly turned playing host to the friends at his side of the table for most of the meal.

I discussed with him afterwards, told him I would rather celebrate our anniversary in a more intimate setting, and I told him that, even though our SCA “anniversary” tends to fall on the same weekend as our wedding anniversary, I’d like to keep the two separate.

Next weekend we have another two events. The weekend after is technically free, but I’ll likely be doing the embroidery for my good friend’s elevation to the Order of the Pelican because, well, the elevation is the very next week.

I’ve also got embroidery to do for my belting to my soon-to-be Peer, a Laurel I both admire as an artisan and as a friend. There’s also an art exchange gift that I need to finish before my belting–both of which are due the week after the elevation. Then, when all that is caught up, I need to finish the embroidery project that I’ve been working on for the past four or five months for Their Majesties….who will no longer be ruling by the time I get finished but who have told me that my friend’s elevation project comes first.

So, long story long, I have ended up with a third job in the midst of all this. The SCA is becoming obligatory instead of just fun.

Don’t get me wrong; I like doing the embroidery. I like when people take note of and enjoy my work. But it IS work, so I have to once again force myself to slow down and reflect on my priorities.

  • Day job (gotta pay the bills)
  • Writing (which I hope will some day assist in the payment of the bills)
  • Sanity (yes, I do need to include this in my list)
  • SCA events and activities

I don’t want to stop altogether. I like my SCAdian friends and family… I just need more of a balance.

In pursuit of that goal, I picked some Fridays next month to sign up for the live stream Writer Imperfect, where I get to chat with other authors and answer questions about what little I know about the publishing world. I still have an event in May, but it’s just one event. Those three Fridays are for my writing career.

I’ll survive. I always do. But my survival hinges more and more on me standing up for my needs and voicing my concerns when I get overbooked. And speaking of booking, I should try to get some writing time in today….

Floodgates open? Well, there’s a trickle

Well, after a good solid month of being blocked, I’m back to writing. It’s still slow going, and the progress isn’t marked, but it is progress.

I’m starting to get more of the world in place, the situation–locally for my characters as well as globally–the timing…things are coming together. Or, well, for my characters they’re falling apart. Lol

I can’t say too much without getting spoilery, but I’m getting more confident in the direction Book 3 is going. It’s fleshing out, it’s developing, it’s coming to light. (Sounds silly for only having added about 1500-2k words this morning, but you’d be surprised how much can be conveyed–or inspired–by those few words.) I have more of a vision of what’s happening and what’s going to happen.

Of course, this means that my long work day in the surgery department will seem even longer, because I’ll be away from my laptop and unable to continue my momentum. My brain might end up being stuck in the distant future instead of being rooted firmly in the present. (Don’t worry–I don’t do anything more crucial than taking vital signs, giving drops, and maybe giving discharge instructions. Lol)

Adding to the time-taken-away-from-writing is my upcoming anniversary. Six years this Saturday! We’re going to get coordinating Gallifreyan tattoos once we have the extra funds saved up. It was my husband’s idea, but I fully endorse it.

Tomorrow I’ll start on the full-dose Vraylar, which means I’ll be taking it only three days a week (yay for a long half-life!) and hopefully seeing even more improvement in my stress levels. I handled yesterday’s work day well, and it seems even the days that are craptastic aren’t as bad as they normally would be. I tried to cut hours where I could, but it looks like I’ll be in OT again this week–which means I’ll probably be sent home early tomorrow. Darn. Guess I’ll have to write or something until my husband gets off work and we can leave for our weekend trip.

We’ll be going to an SCA event on Saturday, but Friday-Sunday we’ll be staying with his dad and stepmom, and Saturday after the event we’ll be having a nice dinner with friends at a delicious restaurant. The adult in me is looking forward to a beer; the kid in me is looking forward to FOOD!! Seriously, this place has the best chicken pot pie I’ve ever tasted.

Well, it’s getting to be That Time again. Time to leave for work, to leave my comfy abode and make the twenty-minute drive to employment.

Vicious cycles

Here we go again…

…I don’t know quite how it happened. Things were going at a fairly manageable pace, and then suddenly I was thrown back into back-to-back weekends of SCA-related events while still having the embroidery deadline looming…and now I have more embroidery to do (not that I’m complaining–I adore my friend that has commissioned me, so I’ll definitely do it). But yeah. I’m back at it. Somehow, despite my determination to slow down and maintain my sanity.

I might have to put my foot down (again) and say (again) that I can’t be doing this (again). It’s got my anxiety up, which I think is affecting my stomach (I’ve had more frequent reflux recently, so I think my gut hates the anxiety too), and I’m having a harder time sleeping through the night and functioning the Monday after the event weekend.

Last weekend had an event on Sunday. This weekend has a birthday party Friday and a household meeting Saturday. Then the weekend after is our anniversary weekend (with an SCA event on our anniversary). Then an event that my husband’s Peer is running the weekend after that. Then I’m pretty damn sure there’s something the next weekend (because even though my calendar doesn’t show anything, there’s gotta be something), then a big event for our Barony the weekend after that, then Coronation the weekend after that (where I have two smaller embroidery projects due)…then I think I might get a weekend or two off. But damn. That’s a lot of stuff all at once.

What happened to slowing down after Estrella?? It happened, and then it didn’t…and I don’t know how I let myself get wrangled into this many engagements again.

I have to sit down and evaluate what events I have to go to and what ones I can stay home for. I feel obligated to go to the birthday party because it was nice of them to invite us, which means since we’ll be in Tucson anyway we might as well go to the household meeting. The anniversary weekend I can’t skip. Maybe my husband’s Peer’s event? That gives me one, maybe two (if my calendar’s right) weekends “off”… but there’s still the two back-to-back weekends of SCA stuff, and while it’s pretty much right in town, I have a lot of work to do for both events and I. Just. Don’t. Know.

And of course now that I’m getting all this typed down the anxiety is creeping back up. Maybe creeping isn’t the right word…how about skyrocketing? Yeah, that’s more accurate.

Guess I’m back to running on high octane again for an indeterminate period of time. At least a month, maybe a bit more. I hope my mind can take it.

A Rare Lazy Weekend

River (pictured above) pretty much embodies my spirit animal last weekend in this picture. I slept quite a lot, and accomplished not much of anything.

Okay, so I got the last of the handwriting from Estrella transcribed. That’s something I accomplished. And I got the laundry done (but not put away). I was basically the noodle-cat in the picture, limp and lifeless.

I know that I kind of earned it, but I still feel a bit rotten for not getting more done. I hope to remedy that next weekend with more embroidery work finished. My timeline on that is ticking down, so I need to focus. Thankfully, I have only two halves of a hem to do to be totally finished. Just a little more…

Book 3 is, as all first drafts are, crap, but it’s got potential. I need to clean and beef it up, but that’s for later, when I have the draft finished. I’m still waiting on the edits from RhetAskew before I get too invested in the story I’m starting to tell there, because if they decide I need to change the ending of Escape the Light I’ll have some rewriting to do for Book 3…best not to get too committed to any one story right now, when I might have to make sweeping changes (learned my lesson the hard way on that one).

I need to bug my mom for the edits on my short story. Time’s ticking on that deadline, too, though I have a couple weeks still. I want to get it submitted ASAP though, because I am anxious to get it in the bag. I know, I know, “patience young Padawan”….I don’t wanna be patient. I wanna get as many coals in the fire as possible. (I’m pretty sure I’m mixing metaphors there, but you get my drift.)

My pen nib tattoo is scheduled for Wednesday after work. I’m really excited about it, especially since I’m funding it with autographed books that I’ve sold. It’s the perfect way to pay for a writing-themed tattoo, right? In case you need a reminder, here’s the image I’m going to get inked:

It’s going to go horizontally along my collar bone (and I’m not getting the little crown or whatever that is put on it).

The surgeon is back at work this week after nearly a week off, so I’m back to work as normal. I’m hoping that the new med continues to work well. I haven’t felt nearly as stressed since starting it, and I hope it’s not a fluke.

I suppose I should get to work on something right now. I have a few hours until I have to get ready for work, so I’ve got some play time, but better to jump into the next project so I can keep momentum going for the week.

The treatment is a success…or is it?

So it’s been almost a week since I started the new bipolar med, and it’s got mixed results. I mean, I’m not feeling the sky-high levels of stress and anxiety that I was feeling before, but at the same time…I’m not feeling as much of anything.

Stress levels are down–which is great–but my give-a-shit-o-meter has crashed. I just don’t care. Ten-hour day on my feet with a fifteen minute lunch? Eh. Forgot to get my lab work done before my appointment today? Whatever. Probably going to get yelled at by my rheumatologist for not taking the $2k-a-month medicine she prescribed? Shit, she yells at me all the time anyway. Like it’s my fault the RA isn’t under control–try prescribing something that doesn’t cost more than my mortgage, lady.

I even didn’t get that upset when I threw up my breakfast yesterday. It was like “Okay, this is happening. I’ll just hold off on eating anything else until I’m sure my stomach is settled.”

Don’t get me wrong; I’m extremely grateful that the stress and anxiety are almost completely gone. That part’s great. But I gotta admit, it concerns me a bit that I’m not, well, concerned. I’m just rolling through life, doing what I need to do. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be backlash on that at some point. Things can’t be this smooth without some bumps along the way.

Oh well. I’ll take the bumps as they come. I’m handling things much better now. I don’t get the all-consuming sense of being overwhelmed by what I have to do. My interest in my interests hasn’t 100% come back yet, but I’m getting there. Got a new short story in the works, got Book 3 moving along–at a snail’s pace, but it is moving–and I’ve got the embroidery that I’m slowly getting knocked out.

Speaking of which, I should probably work on that while it’s nice and quiet. I’ve got most of today to work on it, but there will be that 3-4 hour period where I’m off to my appointment where I can’t embroider. (I feel weird embroidering in the doctor’s office).

Try, try again

On the advice of many, many people, I went to my psychiatrist yesterday (a month earlier than scheduled) and talked to him about all the stress I’m under. New medicine acquired, old medicine discarded, and now we play the waiting game.

Basically I have a month to adjust to the low dosage of the new med (which totally sounds like an alien species) before I get the full dose filled. There are a few bonuses to this new med:

  • No known weight gain side effects
  • Long half-life, so once I’m on the higher dose I’ll only have to take it Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays
  • Teeny little capsule, so not a huge gag issue

The med is soon-to-be-approved for bipolar depression, so that’ll help with that side of things, but I am dubious as to the anxiety/stress benefits of the med. If it’s supposed to help with depression, will it also help these other things? We shall see, I guess.

Speaking of bipolar disorder, I’m slated to appear on a podcast called Speak Your Mind, which is a mental health podcast. I know, I know, it’s not my usual book/writing podcast venue, but the host is excited to talk about Abnormal and my writing in addition to discussing mental health issues in my life and in society as a whole. More info to come on that once I’ve gotten a date scheduled. We had a good, long chat the other night, so I’m hopeful that someone listening in gets some benefit out of hearing my story and my struggles.

I try not to get too political about mental health, but let’s face it: mental health is widely ignored by insurance companies and even more widely stigmatized in society as a whole. I think back on the work that Carrie Fisher did to try to destigmatize mental illness, and I think this is one cause I can get behind, not only because it directly affects me but also because it affects such a wide range of people, and not enough people talk about it. Maybe one day, when I’ve hit the NYT bestseller list, I can have the kind of influence where my experiences make a difference.

Yes, I have a mental illness. Yes, I have bipolar disorder. Yes, I take medicines to be “normal.” No, I’m not crazy.

It Never Ends

The stresses and the hits keep coming.

They never really end.

The punches to the gut keep coming.

They never really end.

When one thing’s over, three more begin.

When will the whole thing end?

Up and down and this and that,

They never really end.

Piles and piles of things to do,

They never really end.

I try to pick the pieces up.

But I cannot find the end.

Dropping balls and tripping up,

It never really ends.

High octane and low on fuel,

What happens if I end?

Shedding Light on My Darkness

Bipolar disorder sucks, but it’s livable given the right access to good mental healthcare and the right combination of therapy and pharmaceuticals. Why am I bringing this up now? Well, I’m in talks to, er, talk on a podcast about mental health issues. I was introduced to the podcast by a fellow bipolar author, and it seems like a good fit. I have mental health issues that I have to deal with on a daily basis; they’re a show about mental health.

I talk about mental health a lot here, about my stresses and stressors and stressing out in general, but I want to make it known that you can fight the demons inside and live in the world outside at the same time. It just takes a lot of effort.

It also takes admitting that you need the help.

Hopefully my appearance will help others realize that they don’t have to be holed up in their own little world of demons, suffering through hell on a daily basis. Hopefully it will help them realize that there are options and avenues for relief. And hopefully they’ll realize that they can’t give up after a few things don’t work; they have to keep trying until they find the right combination of therapies for them.

I’d say more, but that would be potential spoilers for the show. 😉 More details as they come!

Almost Home

It’s 0432, and I’m at a friend’s house for the night, waiting for my husband to wake up so we can go the rest of the way home. So what’s an insomniac to do but write?

I tried to take a writing break during Estrella War, but my story started speaking to me again, and I couldn’t ignore it. This is after weeks of little to no progress on Book 3, so I’m glad the Muses decided to become chatty. Still, hand writing when you’ve pulled a muscle in your back (on your dominant side) isn’t exactly fun. I’ve already called out from work–well, texted out, I should say–and I foresee a heating pad in my future once I’m home… Possibly a doctor’s appointment. Depends on how much worse it gets. At the moment, I really don’t want to yawn, as I discovered last night that breathing too deep causes pain in the pulled muscle.

My feet hurt, too, as well as my legs, but it’s more of an ache from overuse of muscles that I’m not accustomed to using. You’d be surprised how many new muscle groups you will discover when you have to sludge through half a foot of thick, slippery mud for days on end. It actually got to the point where walking on dry land felt unnatural.

I’ve been tasked by my publisher’s publicist to find and book no less than three (preferably five) podcast appearances by mid March. I’ve had terrible luck getting responses, so that’s another thing I’m going to have to do once my laptop is unburied from the mess that is our car. I’ve enlisted the help of Twitter, whose #writingcommunity hashtag is a wealth of help and knowledge for newer authors like me, but I’m still going to do the “legwork” of searching podcast apps and contacting shows. It’s going to take a lot of my time, but I know it’s for my own good. I need to keep promoting ABNORMAL even though I’m working simultaneously on ESCAPE THE LIGHT and Book 3. An author’s work is never done, I guess.

I’ll be glad to get home. I miss my cats, miss my shower, miss my bed. I miss my house, my comfy couch, and all the things that I couldn’t take with to Estrella.

I wish that I had ventured out from camp more during the War. I was so miserable that I didn’t make enough of an effort to see friends that I rarely get to see or even to meet new friends. To my SCAdian friends, I apologize for not having much of a presence this War. I’d promise to make more events or something, but I’m still not sure what my mental state is following this “break” from work. I feel somewhat refreshed in the sense that, aside from a few frantic texts, I haven’t had to think about work in a week. However, that little twitch in my right lower eyelid is still there, and I still don’t know how I feel about getting back into attending more SCA events. I want to keep active, but I also need to take my mental health into consideration. That being said, I got some of the best hugs this past week, much needed and sorely missed.

Goodbye, Estrella War. Until next year.

Dry for now, but a mudpit to clean up later

Estrella War has been wet. It’s been damp and mucky and gross. I’ve escaped two nights in a row to sleep off-site in a warm bed. Tomorrow, however, we have to go back and clean up the mess that is our tent and pack up the car.

That means three hours in a car loaded up with mud-soaked items. It means sorting what can be saved and what is a wash. It means tomorrow is going to suck.

I tried to get stuff together today in preparation, but the task was too daunting for myself alone, and my husband was busy most of the day. Over half of our stuff is soaking wet, another third is damp, and a small sampling of the rest is salvageable.

I’m so done with this vacation. I’m done with the mud and the port-a-johns and the cold. What was supposed to be a relaxing break from work has been nothing but a mudpit. I enjoyed the time I spent with my SCA family, but overall it did nothing to destress me.

I’m going back to a slammed office, or at least I’m pretty sure I am. I’ve stopped receiving text messages from work, but it’s a mixed blessing. On the one hand, I’m not getting inundated with texts about work stuff while on vacation….on the other hand, I could be walking in to anything. Chaos could be awaiting me when I walk in the door….or it could be handled. Who knows.

I might end up going to my psychiatrist early after all. I can’t keep going at the pace I was and survive. War did nothing to relax me. It just keyed up different triggers.

I’m still writing. I’m still holding in there. But I’m not going to be able to hold in there much longer.