thedisappearingcat: (malaise)
We had to go to the mainland to get this year's heating assistance. This required rounding up all our IDs, paperwork, etc.
  • I haven't seen my Social Security card since last year's appointment.
  • I almost couldn't get my seat belt on because I'm so big.
  • I forgot my wallet.
  • We got the time wrong, and showed up at 11:00 instead of 1:10 then had to wait. 
  • Innoq didn't have the correct pay stubs.
  • We have just fifteen days to get our shit together or we're out of luck this year.
  • This involves driving over 200 miles to get a new Social Security card.
  • Which we can't do for a week, because that's how long it will take us to arrange a ride.
  • And the card has to be mailed, which might take longer than a week.
  • Which will mean no heating assistance this year.
  • Which will fuck our already precarious finances right in the ear.
And I'm definitely in a slump. I keep hitching my wagon to somebody else's star only to find out their "star" is a street lamp.
  • I figured if I did MyFitnessPal with Innoq we could keep each other motivated and accountable. But he doesn't do it anymore because logging food is tedious. Now I feel abandoned, like I'm struggling alone and flailing. I don't like to go to MyFitnessPal now because I see he hasn't been logging in and it bums me even more than my own failure. But this is my goddamn body. It's one thing to need support, another to fail because someone else quits.
  • I figured if I ordered my lennán to write for 20 minutes a day -- no less, and only more if he chooses -- I'd feel like a hypocrite for not writing and get back on the ball. But there have been quite a few times when I ordered him to, and he did, and I couldn't. And more times when he wasn't in the right mental/emotional state and I gave him leeway, and I didn't write either. As much as I love feeling that my wonderful, dangerous pet is also my writing partner, I shouldn't depend on him to that degree. I need to figure out what my deal is and fix it for myself. (Note: You're not off the hook, Drake. Drop and give me twenty.)
Working with Black this go-around is evidently kicking up a lot of shit. And I have to face the fact that not all of it is due to illness and poverty. Some of it is on me.

thedisappearingcat: (domesticity)
♥ Meow at husband, receive bacon. Not a bad life.

♥ It's 39 degrees but it feels a whole lot colder. I'm not ecstatic about the idea of standing in line at the food pantry, all of us poor folks huddled together like chickens. My friend who just had knee replacement surgery is going to be in agony. If we didn't need the food there wouldn't be any way in hell. 
  • Yup, it was cold out there. Innoq held our place in line because he doesn't mind the cold. My friend and I stayed in the car until the door opened and we moved inside.
  • Excellent haul. We were able to get the wherewithal for chicken tacos tonight.

♥ I don't believe in writers block as a Thing in and of itself. It's usually a symptom or a result of another problem or set of problems. I'm trying to figure out what my problem is. It's been a month and I haven't even wanted to write. That's not normal.
  • I've decided to fictionalize my exploits in Fallen London, to shake the cobwebs out of my brain. I did something like this once and it was fun.
  • I'll be posting this on my writing Tumblr on a fairly regular basis. Ideally every day.

♥ I haven't totally abandoned writing, despite this. I've been doing a lot of thinking. I got overwhelmed about "platform" before I calmed down and decided to treat it like everything else in this half-life that I live. I broke it down. What do I want out of this? What's the most spoon-effective way to get it? What isn't going to be so unpleasant that I'd rather roll around in lobster bait? The solution is to better utilize the tools I already use and enjoy. That's Tumblr and Twitter, and eventually a Goodreads author account.
  • I created a dedicated email just for my writing, to keep it separate from my personal stuff and protect my legal name.
  • I created a simple Weebly site as an "About Me" page and for contact info. Later on I'll add information about the projects I'm working on.

♥ I'd always planned on taking a pen name for my writing. This is largely because a) I know what I can do if I've got somebody's actual name and b) I've seen Misery. I'm protective of my name and a lot of details of my lives. (Despite the spew here on DW. Trust me, this is the tip of the iceberg.) I wanted my pseudonym to be Irish, and I wanted to honor my Irish family. What I came up with is Rosalyn Kelly. I love it, and I'm getting excited to see it on the cover of a book. 

♥ My kiddo brought his Spanish grade up from an F to a B in less than two weeks. I'm pleased with him... but why the flunk was he fucking in the first place if he was capable of that? I don't know whether to say "I'm proud of you" or "Oh, you little shit." 
  • I went with "I'm proud of you but please work to your full capacity. It'll save us all aggravation and you from getting in trouble."
  • We told him that, besides our old PS3 (which Innoq mailed to him since we'll be getting the PS4 soon) he won't be getting any Christmas gifts from us because we have no money. And he won't. It's not, technically, a Christmas gift if he doesn't get it until sometime in January. *dimples*
♥ I am very pleased with my lennán tonight. As soon as I have the spoons for it I think I'll write some personalized porn for him.
  • Of course, I'll only post it with his consent.
  • If he consents, his sub gets to read it first because she was a very good naughty girl today.
♥ Well, the Pagan tag just went a'splody. O.O'
  • For the record, I blocked and ignored soloontherocks a long-arsed time ago. 
  • I even put her name in the sugar jar.
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.

Error

Nov. 30th, 2013 04:36 pm
thedisappearingcat: (writing)
 
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

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