thedisappearingcat: (writing)
It's been almost a month since I've written a goddamn thing.

I failed out of NaNoWriMo because of my health, for the first time in six years. I've always "won" it but at great cost and with almost nothing usable at the end. Plus I'm so stressed and ill during it that I'm not fit to live with. Friends, family, and lovers have begged and bribed me not to do it yet I've done it anyway. Conceding hurt. Conceding that meant giving this disease another piece of myself.

Besides that, I buckled under the pressure of what's expected of an Indie Author for success. Everything I've read about it jumps up and down on the topic of platform. I've got to tweet. I need a nice website. Blogging is essential. I have to e-mail market. I have to get my "brand" out there. All before I even finish and try to sell my first book. Or I'll fail.

Jesus fucking Christ, people. I can barely feed myself and keep the house halfway sanitary most of the time. I'm goddamn chronically ill. The only reason I haven't ended up in the hospital is that the doctors admit they don't know much about CFS and wouldn't know how to treat me. 

And I'm supposed to what?!

So I've been really discouraged and my anxiety has kicked into high gear. I'm ace at not showing it, but those who really know me have noticed I'm not myself. I'm breaking. I don't break. I crack, sometimes, but I don't break. I can't let myself break.

I've got to shove this all aside. I've got to quit freaking out about it. 

I've got to just... write.
thedisappearingcat: (malaise)
 Today can be summed up in one sentence: "Well, that isn't what I meant to do..."

I was nettled by Innoq nagging me a bit about the dishes and other aspects of housekeeping I'd been neglecting during my rest period. He could have damn well done them! But I felt guilty too, because I know he's not well either and is adjusting to a new dose of medications. So I alternated watching Yu-gi-oh and cleaning. I put away my clean clothes, tidied, and did as many of the dishes as I could. (Still not all of them, but a vast improvement.)

Cut due to aspects of wellness (or lack of it) that might be upsetting. )

But between the housework and that, I was knackered. On a day when I should have been resting up! So I went to bed at 8:00 pm. That was really-really odd, but I was that kind of tired.

And of course I woke up at 1:00 am and will be up most of the night...
thedisappearingcat: (malaise)
I've been in the middle of a bad flare. Exhausted to the point of tears, aching, dizzy, occasionally nauseous. All the fun flu-like symptoms of CFS. 

Spiritually I'm at a point of... well, not throwing everything out the window over my left shoulder with a pinch of salt, but feeling like I need to loop around to the beginning, examine my foundational stuff, and maybe replace a few stones that are crumbling underneath me. I definitely need to simplify and streamline a lot of things to accommodate my disabilities.

Writing came pretty much to a skidding halt a couple weeks ago when I let myself get overwhelmed and brain-fried. The first draft of Spirit's Calling is finished (!) but instead of celebrating and taking a break as planned I succumbed to NaNoWriMo and tried to go straight into the second draft. Of course, I can no longer maintain the 1,667 word per day pace and I fell behind, which stressed me out, which made me ill, which caused me to fall further behind, which... etc. (Damn, I spend a lot of time chasing my tail...)  And the story isn't ready to go into the second draft. This is the stage where I need to research time period and setting, nail down the characters and timeline, start the "story bible" etc. Add to that, I'm freaking myself out because all the writing advice I'm reading is telling me that I Need A Platform Right Now or I Won't Sell Much. Then I calculate the number of spoons the recommended platform is going to take out of me and freak worse. Gyah, can't I just tell the goddamn story?

Innoq (my husband -- not his actual name) had a massive seizure at the library where he works. I had to be matter-of-fact and deal with that, and deny even to myself how stressed out I was. He was fine, but really tired and shaky afterward so I did all the cooking and what housework I could even though I should have been in the bed resting next to him.

Then there were appointments with dentists, social workers, councilors, doctors, and everybody and their cousin's hamster fuck my life. *thud*

But now I have five days where I'm not scheduled to do anything but basic housekeeping or go anywhere unless there's an emergency. *quickly knocks thrice on wood* These five days (Thursday - Monday) are mine. I will spend them nurturing myself in whatever way is right for me at any given moment. I may work on Spirit's Calling. I may work on Night Market. I may knock a couple books off the TBR Pile That Ate the Northeast Coast. If I'm feeling steady and the weathah isn't too bad I may take a mosey in the woods behind the housing units. I may practice on my Celtic harp, which I haven't done for a while. 

The thing I'm definitely doing is cleansing, grounding and centering, and recharging. With all that's been going on, a lot of energetic gunk has built up. That's making everything probably twice as bad as it has to be. 


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Caitria

December 2013

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