Next week is Estrella War, the biggest SCA war in this area of the country, and I have a lot to do still before we leave on Wednesday.
I have to repair a couple pieces of garb. I have to keep working on the embroidery for the King and Queen. I have to mentally prepare for the embroidery classes I’m going to teach (the actual physical prep is pretty much done). I have to do laundry. I have to pack my garb and any mundane clothes I want to bring. I have to pick up the Viking coat that my fencing teacher made for me.
I’m sure there’s more, but that’s all I can think of right now. So despite the fact that after today I’m off work until the War is over, I’m still going to be quite busy.
I’m hoping to get a good start on the hem embroidery for Their Majesties by the end of the weekend. It should go quicker than the cuffs did, despite the additional details. I’m hoping. Fingers crossed. Lol
Even with War going on, I’ll have the good ol’ laptop handy to tap-tap-tap away whenever I have some free time. I’m not going to let my early a.m. insomnia go to waste just because I’m at an event! No, I’m going to keep busy with writing and editing in the wee hours while there’s not enough light to embroider by. Y’all can’t get rid of me that easily. 😉
I’ve added a subscription option to this page, as well as a newsletter that will be going out on a semi-regular basis. I’ll have tidbits about the projects I’m working on, links to blog posts, and other fun stuff. Keeping up with that should prove interesting, but I think if I set myself reminders on my Google calendar or something I’ll be okay.
Well, off to do war-like stuff now. Or embroidery. Or loading the dishwasher. Whatever my happy little butt decides to do. Lol
Here’s the thing: pharmaceutical companies are able to charge out the freakin’ nose for stuff that’s basically essential for physical and mental health. I called my insurance’s compounding pharmacy for a refill of the latest biologic my rheumatologist prescribed for me. They informed me it would be two thousand plus dollarsper injection (a monthly injection). That’s almost twice my mortgage! Does the medicine work for the rheumatoid arthritis? Doesn’t matter. Can’t afford twice my mortgage every month, so I’m not getting it.
It’s crazy. Two. Thousand. Dollars. A month. Most people can’t afford that even without mortgage and credit card debt and utilities and gas to-and-from work and medical insurance and… point is, it’s excessive. It’s punitive. It’s the pharmaceutical company saying ,”Fuck you, if you can’t shell out more than minimum wage’s monthly salary, you’ll just have to be in pain.”
Add to that the fact that I need to at some point find a urologist and a nephrologist and see my psychiatrist and call my rheumatologist (do you get the “gist” of it?)…Yeah. Copay city. I could afford it if I tighten up some things, but it’s getting out of hand. Long story short, a person can’t afford to be sick in the U.S. these days unless they’re in the upper tax brackets.
It’s all just another series of stressors that are ripping my psyche apart these days. Work is stressful. SCA life is stressful (at least until my royal embroidery project is done). Work is stressful. I feel work needs an extra mention, because I’m so stressed at work that it’s causing me to burst into tears any time I stop. I mean, I go on break, and the slightest trigger has me crying. I leave work, and again, I’m sobbing. Basically, I’ve been operating at such high stress levels lately that as soon as I release any of it I’m a big ol’ ball of tears. I’m hoping that my upcoming week-long vacation from the office, combined with the surgeon’s upcoming week-long vacation next month, eases enough of the stress that I can get things done. If not, I’ll be back at the psychiatrist’s office before my scheduled follow-up…crying. Again.
I know I’ll get through it. I always do. But just knowing that it’s getting harder and harder to even afford to take care of myself is overwhelming. How am I supposed to get myself well enough to function if I can’t afford the things I need to get well?
This isn’t really a political post. I’m sure there are plenty enough of those out there that are better-informed than I am. This is just a rant, a scream into the nothingness to release that pent-up frustration and get it off my chest.
As work gets more hectic and time ticks away to Estrella War–and with it, deadlines–there has been some other ticking of late…a tic in my right lower lid.
I know it’s likely stress-induced, and I know there’s not a whole lot to be done about it, so I’m tolerating it for now. The tic. Not the stress. I’m not tolerating that well at all. Sure, I hide it…sometimes. Sometimes, though, those who know me notice the pause before my response, the gritting of my teeth, the tension in my shoulders.
I bite my tongue. I choose my words with care. I pick my battles. But it’s starting to nip away at the edges. To fray my nerves. To unravel me.
Intellectually? I know I should make an appointment with my doctor. My psychiatrist. I should go and see him and tell him about the high-octane stress and see what can be done pharmaceutically, if anything, to ease some of it. Emotionally? I am afraid. I’m terrified that for the first time in over a decade I’ll have to be taken off work to readjust to new meds, to destress, to recenter myself.
Note I didn’t say I’d have to take time off work; I have no intention of taking time off voluntarily. But I’ve been removed from work by a psychiatrist in the past, and I fear that may be what’s necessary now.
I can’t afford it. I can’t financially afford it, and I can’t afford to leave my duties right now. There’s too much at risk for me to stop. The house. My job. So. Much.
Not even a week after I was “counseled” by a nursing director and the office administrator about the stress I’ve been undergoing lately, I have once again been thrown into the pattern of being dragged all over the office to do my job, others’ jobs, and any job in between they can find for me.
It’s not all the fault of administration or any direct supervisors. It’s a whole crapload of unfortunate events and circumstances, some preventable, some not, that has turned this week into a hellhole.
I’d write more in depth about that, but not only will it not accomplish anything, it would be…hmm, not quite libel, because it’s all true, but not looking good for the place of business I work at should anyone read this who knows where I work. So I’ll just leave it at “it sucked and did nothing to reduce my work-related stressors.”
Home has been better, for the most part, but I must say that coming home–from a trip to the grocery store after a long day at work, mind you–to find out that my husband was headed to Tucson for the evening and I was on my own for dinner may have added to at best exasperation, at worst yet more stress. I can kinda cook when need be, but most of the dishes for the cooking I wanted to do were in the dishwasher, which was running, so I made a salad. At least we had salad makings in the house.
The writing front has been quiet–like, Western-movie, tumbleweeds-bouncing-down-the-road-in-the-wind, crickets-chirping quiet. I’ve just been too consumed with work and embroidery.
Okay, so some of the embroidery has been my own fault. I decided to give myself a new project when I still had an important unfinished one. I have been bouncing back and forth betwixt the two, but I need to buckle down and focus on the more pressing one. The one for me, which I would like to get done before Estrella, will probably end up being a sample piece for the embroidery classes I plan on teaching.
Oh yeah. Those. I have to get the handouts ready and figure out what images I’m going to print for my students to trace onto the water-soluble stabilizer so they can get started on their own projects. There’s that, too.
Some day soon, possibly after Estrella, things will calm down. I’ll be able to sit and relax and not worry about a million little things fluttering around the back of my brain that need to get done.
Right now, though? Right now, I will have to suck it up and soldier on, and I might have to have some more “counseling” before it’s all said and done. Not gonna lie, a few more, er, extreme methods of getting out of work came to mind last night. Nothing that I’m going to attempt, but yeah, the darker thoughts came to the surface, and the urge was strong.
I’m stronger though. I’m stronger than the darkness, and I’ll crawl out of it every time.
I know, I know, I’ve been a bad blogger. A bad author, even. I took a whole weekend off to myself, and I spent absolutely none of it writing. No blog posts, no Twitter hashtag games, no new progress on my WIP. I basically spent the weekend embroidering, with bits of eating and napping thrown in. I was a lump.
Today I’m back to the “real” world, the world of work and deadlines and what have you. So I’m back, for good or bad, until the next rare weekend off. Today I plan on doing the #amwriting hashtags, I plan on getting ready for work and going in and doing my job. I plan on adulting.
Not much adulting was achieved this weekend. I took some of the trash over to my parents’ house, emptied the dishwasher, put away the laundry….all at the last minute. Oh, and I ate a salad. One salad.
On the plus side, I’ve hardly thought about work at all. This is a good thing, because work is one of the main stressors in my life, and one that I can only do so much about. It’s not like I can take time off of work just to decompress (like I have been with the SCA). I have to go. That’s just all there is to it. Which sucks, because the stress in my life is showing, and one supervisor and an administrator both took me aside at separate times Friday to discuss how stressed I’ve been and how they can help. Fuck. I hate when the bipolar seeps out to where it’s visible. That’s no good.
I did some reading this weekend as well. 1,4,3 by Alicia Sophia, a fellow Askew author. It’s good so far, but I think I’ve come close to figuring out the ending, which sucks because I’m only halfway in. But who knows? Maybe she wrote it that way on purpose as a ruse. I could be surprised after all once I finish.
Lots of rest did my soul good, but I need to put back on the jet pack and hit the ground running today. Gotta work, gotta come home and write or embroider, gotta work on a lesson plan for the embroidery classes I’m going to teach at Estrella, etc etc etc. Got a lot to do, and less and less time in which to do it. Why do I do this to myself again?
I’ve also got the embroidery for Their Royal Majesties to finish before Estrella is over. I kinda was working on my own stuff mostly this weekend. Bad me. Stupid flighty brain. But again, it did me some good. Focus on me, have some “me time” where I’m doing things for myself.
I hope I don’t seem as stressed at work today. I don’t need another supervisor taking me aside and chatting with me about how stressed/distracted I am.
Soon I’ll be back to writing. After Estrella, maybe. Get serious about cranking out Book 3 and that fun collaboration with my Askew author friend Angelique Jordonna. Her book, Dani (which I’ve had the pleasure of reading ahead of release), is amazing, and I know our book will be amazing as well. Just gotta get that first draft out. Lol
Oh! One more thing: I found out that a Laurel was looking at the embroidery I did on my husband’s Viking hood and, from what he says, she seemed impressed, enough so that she said she wanted to talk to me about it. That makes me feel good, because while I did slack a bit on the timing of finishing it, I worked hard on that hood. Plus, it’s a good ego boost when a Laurel is impressed with your work. Here’s a look:
Guess that’s all the update I have. Time to get ready for the ol’ day job. Shower, get dressed, put on some semblance of makeup to pretty-fy myself. That kind of thing.
Oh, wait! I did a live streaming interview/roundtable with some other authors! That was cool af! Here’s the link to the YouTube recording (it’s an hour long, but it’s a fun watch).
Here’s where I’m at right now: I’ve gotten an assignment of sorts from my publisher to look up book venues (bookstores, libraries, etc) that I’d be willing/able to travel to for an event/appearance. There’s a caveat, too: they can’t be any place that I’ve contacted before. My problem? I live in BFE Southern Arizona, where the closest non-used bookstore and/or library that I haven’t already tried is pretty much 20+ miles away…and the majority of what I found is in Tucson, which is 70-90 miles away (depending on where in Tucson it’s at). Most of them, actually, are branches of the Pima County Library. Nearly half of them, in fact (I was told to select 20-30, so I picked the closest 30 bookstores & libraries). And one is 150 miles away.
I understand that I have to get my name (and myself) out there to get Abnormal seen and bought. I get that, I do. But I’m not in the best situation to make it to “out there” unless “out there” occurs on a weekend. Taking time off from the day job is difficult because of our patient load (and because I have quite a few responsibilities there), and I don’t see well enough at night to be driving 40+ miles (round trip) to an unfamiliar location. Then there’s the fact that, unless it’s in a place where I have friends I can stay with, it’s day tripping or a motel, one of which is exhausting and the other of which is expensive.
Let me just say that writing the book is the easy part. Cake compared to the marketing aspect. That’s turned out to consume more of my time and cause more stress than any of the writing/editing/revising did. So if you want to write books (and get them published), start learning now how to market them. I didn’t, and Abnormal has suffered because of it. It’s not beyond “fixing,” but it’s kinda dismal at this point.
This weekend has been nice. Low-key, home alone, and best of all: not sick as fuck.
I made myself retrospect a little too much, though. I was cruising Netflix, looking for something to watch, when I found a good movie. Silver Linings Playbook. Excellent flick, great acting….and maybe a little too real.
Being bipolar, I feel this movie on a visceral level. No, I’m not quite like Pat. Or Tiffany. Not really. I’ve never been hospitalized for my emotional state, never been that far off. But yeah, I’ve missed work over my mental state before. I’ve obsessed over failed relationships, I’ve written nutball letters/texts/emails to my exes, I’ve been the “backup.” I’ve slept around because my depression had me down, or because my mania had me horny. I’ve quit taking my meds more than once. So maybe I’m bits of Pat and Tiffany. I’m Piffany.
I’ve been doing okay for a while now. Well, mostly okay. I mean, I get depressed sometimes. I get manic. I’ve been on an embroidery kick this weekend, and I’m pretty sure it’s not completely deadline-induced. I’m probably manic. I mean, I’m tearing through these embroidery projects, stopping briefly to eat or go to the bathroom or take a catnap. But mainly I’ve been embroidering. To the point of dry skin and calluses on my fingertips.
The whole Pat thing happened to my brother a few years ago. Not the beating-a-man-almost-to-death thing, but the bad ending to a bad relationship that ultimately resulted in him being committed. I won’t go into it too much here, because it’s his story not mine, but it was scary to watch.
It was even scarier knowing that our great-grandfather died of psychosis. “Exhaustion in the progression of psychosis”–that was the CoD on his death certificate. He was so fucking crazy it killed him.
Since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder before my brother was, I always assumed that was my eventual fate. Then my brother got diagnosed, and combined with his substance abuse issues he’s way worse off than me. He had his psychotic break in his mid-40s….the same age good ol’ Great-Granddad was when he died.
My brother didn’t die. We’ve got better meds now, better tech, better treatments. But guess what? This year I turn 40. Now, like I said, I’m not as bad off as my brother. So I’m not necessarily on a timeline here. The past doesn’t have to repeat itself. Maybe my brother’s incident was the repetition, and I’ll be passed over. Like the Christian thing. I dunno–I’m not the religious type. But maybe I don’t have to dread my mid-40s. Maybe I don’t have to go go go, to push myself so much, to worry about whether or not I’ll make it long enough to do the things I want to get done.
I want to finish my sci-fi series. I want to finish the collaboration I’m working on. I want to learn more about making garb and clothes and embroidery and get good enough at researching it all to become a Laurel. I want to learn more rapier techniques and practice enough to be good at them. And I want to lose this weight I’ve gained. I want so many things, and I think the back of my brain is telling me “You’ve got a few years left. Five, six max. You need to hurry up. You need to get your shit together while you have the mental capacity to do it.”
I gotta get that out of the back of my head. I gotta tell myself that there’s no deadline to insanity, that it’s not written. It’s not predestined. I don’t have to go crazy. I can stay sane, stay mostly stable, stay me.
I also have a secret weapon: my husband. Even if I do go crazy, I have him to keep me alive, to keep me from going so far down the hole that I can’t crawl back up.
That’s it. That’s my silver lining. That’s my ace in the hole.
Five or six years. I pass that, and I win. I beat history.
I thought I was all set for this weekend out of town. I had my garb set aside, my “naked” clothes, my toiletries, my embroidery, my laptop, my shoes, rapier gear, tankard, and even my writing/author organizer binder just in case. All of that….. and I forgot my pills.
Not just one pill, or just certain ones. All. Of. Them. I have cough drops in my purse, and that’s it as far as pharmaceuticals go. No mood stabilizer. No Adderall. No antidepressant. No arthritis meds. No sleeping meds. No fucking antibiotics for this lingering bronchitis. Not even a single Benadryl in case I get stung.
I can’t believe I totally, completely forgot all of my medicine. I’ll admit, sometimes I forget to take a set of doses–Maybe I’m out too late, and by the time I get home it’s past a reasonable time to take my night meds without fear of having trouble waking up the next day. Maybe I’m in a hurry and forget to take my morning handful before I leave the house. But two whole days without anything?
I’m so going to regret this.
There might still be hope. Our roommate might go to the same city we’re headed to this weekend (but not to the same event)… so if she’s feeling generous maybe I can talk her into grabbing the pill case before she leaves home and meeting us up somewhere for the “drop.”
It’s that time of year again–time to set the new year’s goals/”resolutions” and reflect on where the old year took me.
Let’s start with 2018. 2018 was a long, full year of firsts and new triumphs. I went to my first Estrella War, moved into my first house, published my first novel, submitted my first sequel…. Sure, there were moments when I wanted to rip my hair out, but overall it hasn’t been too bad.
What do I need to do for this year? Let’s take a look (in no particular order):
-Get Book 2 in the bag and on the shelves. Yeah, I’ve got the first draft submitted and the first round of revisions (in before the new year!), but, as I’ve learned, there’s so much more to getting a novel published than simply writing it. Lol
-Take it easy on the SCA events so I can have time for other projects–to include my writing. I’ve been overdoing it entirely too much, and I need to pull back and reevaluate where I’m going in the SCA and how fast I want to get there.
-Finish the draft for Book 3 and polish it for submission. This is kind of a given. I have to keep them rolling while I still have story to tell, and the further ahead I get the easier it will be to stay on top of the writing game.
-Remember to keep marketing Abnormal. I can’t stop just because the book’s been out a few months now.
-Start a collaboration project. Because yeah. I need more on my plate. Lol
-Get more organized at work and get ahead of that game as well. I’ve got charts piled up, and they won’t stop coming any time soon.
-Focus on health. I need to zero in on what I should prioritize health-wise to take care of myself. Walk more? Eat less? Sure, but what then? I’m the biggest I’ve ever been, and at this rate it’ll be hell to try to fit into all of my garb for this year’s Estrella War. As it is, I’ve got all of a month and a half to drop a few pounds and squeeze into the garb I have–or to alter the garb I have/make new garb. Either way, I’d better get on the ball.
-Be more assertive with my needs. I can’t keep trying to please other people. I have things I need to be physically and mentally sound, and setting those things to the side so other people aren’t disappointed won’t do me any good in the long run.
That’s all I have for now, but I’m sure I’ll come up with more. Right now, I’m trying to focus after a three-hour night’s sleep…and right now, my brain has fewer tabs functioning than my web browser.
Oh, and one more thing about 2019–it’s gonna bring me the big 4-0! That’s right, I’ll be 40 this summer. Will I have a midlife crisis? Will I sail through? Who knows? The fun’s in finding out!
Well, I’ve done it. For better or for worse, I’ve sent in the first round of revisions on my sequel novel.
Is it better? I think so–but then I’m a tad biased. Some scenes that I spent hours writing are gone, and new scenes are in their places. Some scenes are just plain new. But it flows, it reads well, it’s done…for now.
Now I wait on the edits.
Not sure which is worse: knowing that the book is in someone else’s hands, or the wait to see what they say. I’m not so cocky as to think that I learned all the lessons I needed to from the feedback and edits on Abnormal, but I know I learned a lot, and I’m hoping that means there’s less work for the poor publishers to do. Fingers crossed for a clean, tidy draft that they only have to make minor suggestions and adjustments to.
I’ve been working on SCA garb this weekend as well. I feel better having told my husband that I need to slow down on the activities, and this weekend has actually been quite nice. Would I rather have spent it at home? Yeah, but I’m making do. I got my Persian coat almost finished (my eyes went wonky with the button sewing, so I am taking a break from that until the dizziness passes), and it’s looking pretty sharp. Here it is (pre-buttons):
Screenshot taken from a video my husband took as I modeled the pirihan and coat. No, that fabric isn’t stamped; it was purchased from JoAnn’s just like that. On clearance. The last they had. It was barely enough for me to make the coat. Lol I was originally going to make longer coat sleeves, but I had to shorten them to make all the pattern pieces fit on the fabric I had.
I still need to make the pants, which will be a nice golden-yellow linen, my husband’s entire outfit to make, and, if there’s linen left over when I’m done with those, a sash or two for cinching the waist(s). I’m really, really hoping that our friend who has been helping us with patterning got the time to cut pattern pieces out for my husband’s garb. I don’t think I can do it on my own; when she made my pattern pieces she went so fast I didn’t retain everything she said. If push comes to shove, I can try to fudge it, but time is rapidly passing me by. I probably shouldn’t be typing this post right now, actually.
Once I have my coat finished (after finishing this post, of course), I’ll start on Book 3, I think. I know I kindasorta started it already, but I’m dissatisfied with the timing on the opening scenes. I need to start it closer to the end of Book 2, but not too close. So yeah, today is: coat, rest eyes (if need be), Book 3 opening scenes, and another party at the end of the day…probably a more crowded party than last night, but at least I know there’s an end to the partying in sight.
