Failure

writer-depressed

So it’s NANOWRIMO…. Every year I have the best intention to write every day and complete a lot of writing work. And every year I fail horribly.

I tried really hard this year but as each day went by, this giant wall just hit me. I can’t write. I haven’t been able to write for a long time. It seems like it’s been this way since I finished The Underground Dogs.

I thought I broke the block the other day when I came up with a new plot for one of the novels I have going on. It doesn’t seem like it, though. I still can’t seem to write anything of the story.

I can’t seem to write anything at all.

I don’t know why, really. I think some of it is that I feel disappointed that The Underground Dogs isn’t selling as much as I hoped it would, so I have this feeling of “What’s the point of writing anything if no one is going to read it?” Another part of me just always thinks my stuff is crap, and then yet another part of me is so let down at the fact I’m a tiny drop in an ocean of other “writers” trying to get their words out there. (I wonder how many of them are really storytellers though?)

I just don’t know what to do. I just hope I can force myself to sit down and write something soon. It’s making me very sad and I think it’s just making my depression worse and worse…..

Ten Spoons of Spinach

Hey weberverse. How have you been? I haven’t been doing well lately. I haven’t been managing well. It has been a hard fall-now-into-winter. My heart longs for spring.

I do have some cool news about writing. I have a new plan on getting published. I am going to self-publish (yes, like every other Joe Schmo) The Novel That Will Get Me Published and I have several ideas on how to market it/myself. I am hoping a pub. company will get wind of it and then I’ll get offered a contract from that point. Hey, it could happen.

I also have a new sci-fi short story I am working on. The idea came from a co-worker, so I’ll be sure to credit her, but her idea is too good not to write down. I’m going to work on that and add it to my sci-fi collection. I’ll probably self-publish that, too. That way, I’ll have a couple different things for people (soon to be fans, I hope) to read.

I have several new ideas for novels, too. I think I mentioned one of them already, but now I’ve come up with another one. So I hope to be starting work on those, too…

M and my psych have been encouraging me to write more. I haven’t actually sat down and written anything in many, many moons. I suppose I can say half of it is because you never want to do anything when you have depression, but then I guess the other half, is I don’t feel I’m good enough so why bother. I think I talked about that before, too. But right now I just want to finish some stories to read them and make myself feel better. That’s the whole idea, right there.

So that’s where I am right now. I hope I can start to manage my illnesses better this year and I hope to write and read a lot more. I guess those are my “resolutions.”

Stay classy, San Diego.

Weighing on Me

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Howdy, folks,

Today I’m going to change gears a little bit. My topic is about body self-image and body dysmorphic disorder.

I have very poor self-esteem as far as my body image goes. For some background, I weighed between 110-120 pounds for the majority of my teenage and adult life. I’m a small girl, so this has always been average for me and my personal age and height. Ever since I developed depression and anxiety, and was put on anti-depressants and anti-anxiety, I’ve gained a lot of weight. You might be aware that SSRI’s and anti-psychotic medications are known to be weight-gaining so this is not uncommon. For someone that has always been small, though, this has been very hard for me to overcome/accept. I weighed myself this week and the number scared and depressed me. I’m extremely upset, folks.

I tell you all this to tell you that it is hard to live with the two sides of depression and anxiety. On the one hand, you want to feel better and, along with therapy, medication helps you feel better. But then you have the side-effects from the medication; one of them certainly being weight-gain. What’s the toss-up? Sometimes side-effects just makes you feel more depressed, and then you’re not confident at all.

Sometimes that translates into my writing. If I’m “this fat and ugly,” then I probably really am “this bad” of a writer.

Get what I’m saying?

Well, the good news is that I’m trying to be positive and not think that way.

I’m going to speak with my psych(ologist) about my body-image problems on Wednesday; I’m hoping he’ll have some grains of wisdom for me, or at least just be a lending ear. Maybe he’ll have some advice.

I’ve been talking with M (my husband), too, and he’s going to help me with a new exercise and diet regimen. Since I saw that new number on the scale, I’m more determined than ever to lose weight. I’m cutting out 90% of my alcohol intake, drinking more water daily, exercising daily for 30 minutes, and eating less carbs and more veggies and good grains. (No more of my beloved messy-but-oh-so-yummy veggie burger wraps or tator-tot poutine at the pub down the street! LE SIGH!)

This is my plan and I am excited to start it.

If any of you are feeling down about yourselves, this is something that I have been telling myself: If you don’t like something about yourself, you have the power to change it. Whether that’s weight problems, seeking help for depression, or reaching out for extra help because you’re failing math: you can change what you don’t like.

I know it sounds simple and in reality, it can be hard, but I encourage you to try. You can do it. We can do it.

Stay cool, kids.

Re-Vamp

Autumn-Bridge

I’ve combined my personal and “professional” Facebook pages. I have nothing to hide. I personally don’t agree with having separate ones and have always felt weird about it. Much like the radical new indie publishing world, why can’t we have a radical new way of looking at authors in the sense that what you see is what you get? I’m not stuffy or hiding anything. I am who I am. I want people to know me.

I’m also tweaking this blog to talk about lots of other things, not just my writing. It’s going to be my journey to become a published author and all the other things I go through on that journey, too. Like an outlet, kind of thing.

I’m struggling with my depression lately. It feels like I’m falling into a puddle. I just don’t want to end up in the same place I was in three years ago. I refuse to end up there. I am just trying to take one day at a time and stay in the moment.

I haven’t written much in a while, either. I have a new idea for a novel that M helped me come up with. It’s going to be a comedy. I still have that other sci-fi I’m working on, too. I have to really sit down and work on them–short stories, too.

Anyway, that’s my update.

Stay cool.

Running to Stand Still

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Blade Runner 2049 movie poster

That’s a U2 song. 10 points if you got it.

I’m…here. Surviving. Trying. I guess.

I’ve had a tough time battling my Depression and Anxiety, and there have been some pretty sad family issues over the past few months. I haven’t written much. But those aren’t really the reasons I haven’t picked up the pen… I feel pretty worthless as far as being a writer goes.

I keep reading stuff by other [better] writers and getting rejection letters, so my self-esteem is pretty much at the bottom of the barrel right now. All I want to do is tell stories, you know. Save people. All this is such a broken record if you’ve followed this blog…

I finally saw Blade Runner 2049 the other night. The original Blade Runner is one of my favorite movies of all time. This sequel is right up at the top of the list now, too. I don’t know; I watch stuff or listen to music and it does something to my brain and my heart that makes me want to try again–try telling my stories again, I mean. You put that soundtrack and story together and well, I guess I am inspired again. I am now inspired to work on my sci-fi novel and maybe even some short sci-fi pieces.

But it’s in a sad sort of way. Like, “what’s the point?” I know they’ll make me happy to write, but half the reason I write is to bring joy to other people. And at the rate I’m going, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that at the level I want to. I’m losing faith in myself, I guess. Or maybe I’m just ultra-depressed right now.

I have lots of short stories out at mags and I’m still waiting to hear back on the Novel That Will Get Me Published at the newest pub. company I sent it to. It’s only been 3 months, so I probably have some more waiting to go.

Anyway, I guess I’m off to dream.