Silence

Some of you have asked if I'm okay. So I figure it’s time to chat with you a little. 

Am I okay?

The answer is, I’m trying to be. But at the moment, I am not, and I can’t go into detail just yet. In fact, as much as I love you, coffee beans, I really haven’t wanted to mention this at all online because I don’t like the idea of you worrying about me. And I’m craving privacy in a way that I normally don’t. However, I’ve realized there’s a flaw in my plan. 

Blogging has become an outlet, a way to be honest about my struggles. But I don’t share personal stuff online because of some great quanity of bravery or wisdom or whatever. I wish that were the case, because then my more heart-felt posts would feel voluntary rather than necessary. In all honesty, though, the primary reason I lay myself bare about the big issues is that, if I don’t talk about them, they cloud the forefront of my mind and make it nearly impossible to blog about anything else. I also find that my relationships struggle when I can’t bring full disclosure to the table, because to me friendship has always been about sharing the important stuff as well as the small stuff. Additionally, I feel like pretending that I’m okay when I’m not is a form of lying, and I don’t like lying. 

Over the past few months, I’ve resisted telling you about this specific round of cloud coverage in my life. Instead I’ve tried to force myself to blog around the ensuing block in my mind, because I’ve shared several big things already, and this isn’t like the others. I’ve sat down and outlined/drafted several posts on miscallaneous topics, only to find myself unable to finish anything. 

So I guess I need to tell you, but I’ll do so in as general terms as possible, and I’m sorry if I scare/hurt you. 

Here’s the deal: 

I am sick. I was getting better. I stopped getting better. Now the cliched path to recovery is significantly more exhausting and discouraging and all manner of horrible, but I don’t have the luxury of taking the easy route in hopes that this sickness goes away on its own, because if I do, I will die. I apologize if I’m being too blunt—it’s just that I have to be this blunt with myself since I still struggle to take the stakes seriously. Please don’t be angry with me if you’re a friend or family member and I haven’t told you about this personally; please understand that I didn’t even tell my own mother and sister until last week, and every time I tell someone, I get more tired and overwhelmed. (Also, when I tell people, I feel really guilty about sharing bad news.) Only a handful of people know exactly what’s going on at this point, and already it feels too crowded. However, I realize that for many of my friends and family, hearing about this from a blog post is not at all ideal, and I apologize. At some point, I may decide to share more information with you. In the meantime, I would very much appreciate your prayers, your understanding, and your continued friendship. Thank you. 

2017 Goals

I realize I’m a little late to the party with this, but eh, I don’t care. I’m here now. Where’s the cake? 

This is the point in the game where I’m expected to reflect on the goals that I set and accomplished (or failed to accomplish) in 2016. But my brain doesn’t want to do that, so you can just reflect on them all by your onesies, if you feel so inclined. They can be found here and here. 

This is also the point in the game where I’m expected to make more goals for myself, or rather, recycle old goals from last year, like regifting an ugly sweater. I can get a little more onboard with this one, but to be perfectly honest, I’m kind of over goals and resolutions. 

I’m a little over them because I forget years are short, and I make big plans. Then I blink and the new year has come and I’ve accomplished many things, but not many of the things I actually set out to accomplish. So even though I’ve succeeded, I don’t feel like I can celebrate. After all, my successes weren’t the successes I had planned. Or even if they were, they don’t feel as exciting as I had thought they would. Things rarely feel like I expect them to. Maybe instead of being over goals, I’m just over expectations—my own and other people’s. I’m not over trying, I’m just over trying to fit a wrong-shaped mold. 

I’m not going to tell you how many novels and secret projects I plan to write/edit this year, because at this point, I don’t know. I don’t know how much time I’ll have on my hands or how many victories I’ll win over my fatigue and my depression and my anxiety in this 2017 space. I’m not going to tell you about my deadlines, even though I’ve set more than I could ever hope to meet. 

It’s not that I’m not excited about what I might accomplish in 2017, it’s just that I’m scared to be excited. Getting my hopes up feels like the best way to get let down. 

I want to beta read more books. I don’t know if I will. 

I want to edit all the things. I don’t know how much I’ll manage. 

I’m working on finishing DRACONIAN. It feels like the work will never end. 

I want to finish editing BMT. So far I’ve gotten off to an encouraging start this year. I hadn’t realized just how much I miss the second draft stage, how much I love it best of all because it involves so much heavy lifting, so much moving and shaking, so much intricate thinking. 

I want to edit a secret project for this blog. A secret novella project that you are absolutely, under no circumstances, allowed to know about yet. Because it’s a secret. But who knows, maybe this novella that I wrote and hope to edit will accidentally turn into a trilogy and I will have no secret project to share with you by the end of the year (but then you won’t be disappointed about it, because it was a secret, so you didn’t know to expect anything—aren’t I clever?). 

I want to be more consistent with answering comments and commenting on blogs, but let’s face it, I have social anxiety and limited time, which makes prioritizing conversation of any sort not just difficult but tiring. I still want to try, but as always, I’m not the type of person who can afford to have a consistent priority like that, as much as I have sporadically tried (and failed) to make it so. 

I want to do more things that bring me joy and fewer things that drain my energy. 

I want to reread more of the books I love, because they’re like comfort food, except they won’t make me fat. 

I want to buy more books and drink more coffee. (Disregard the screaming. My wallet was simply having a nightmare.) 

I plan to read a little less (I know, I know, clearly something is wrong with me), watch a little less Netflix (a resolution that will go into effect only after I’ve watched A Series of Unfortunate Events, thank you very much), spend less time on social media, spend more time writing and editing, spend more time journaling, make more money, blah, blah, blah. 

Sorry, I was talking, but then I got bored.

In essence, I don’t know what will happen this year. I want so much—I always want to do so much, and I always forget that years are small and I am one person who needs sleep and gets burnt out and who fails sometimes. 

I may end up starting a full-time job, which I am excited but nervous about. (Oh, and see, my wallet calmed down and went back to sleep. Look at its happy lil’ face. I wonder what it’s dreaming about.) 

I may end up going insane. It could happen. 

I may end up drinking too much Starbucks and dying. 

I may end up making 2017 the best I can. 

We’ll see. 

What about you, my little coffee beans? What are some of your plans for 2017?

Blogging Changes

I’m back…sort of. I can’t promise that I’ll be here regularly, but I will try to post as often as I can. I might post once a day for seven days, then miss a week or two. I might even revert back to Mondays and Wednesdays, or just Wednesdays. I don’t know. We’ll see. 

I’ve been absent for longer than I had planned to be because every time I sat down to write a post, I came up with nothing. I’m not used to coming up with nothing, but when I can’t talk about the biggest thing on my mind, sometimes I can’t think of anything to write at all. And that’s where I am right now. The tangle of words I can’t say is blocking everything else. 

(Wow, that was dramatic. I apologize.) 

But I’m promising to try. Because I do miss you. I miss this. And maybe, with enough encouragement, the words will come. 

Before I leave, little coffee beans, I have two things to tell you. First of all, you will be seeing another post from me tomorrow, whether you want to or not. *cue ominous background music* And second of all, my friend started a blog, which you should read and stalk follow!!