Sunday, June 18, 2017

In high school, you wouldn't have caught me listening to a band like Blink 182... or Blink 182, for that matter. Generally, you'd find me listening to whatever obscure thing I could find, Industrial music, Goth music (especially since my cousin had a goth band and I was invited to a couple of shows), and any mainstream thing that I found acceptable. Not to mention what was once correctly labeled as alternative music (it was SO alternative to the mainstream stuff you'd hear). I know I definitely took an interest in anything my older cousins (early 20 somethings) and other adults were listening to.


By college, I was a little less... elitist, shall we say, as I didn't feel as much of a need for trappings that marked me as other (because I was SO not you and I really liked what I was into). I was unique, I was plugged into the lifestream, and music made me live. So that was not quite as necessary in college because you made your friends and the things that worried you in high school, the constant having to be around others and the judgment, was no longer there. So I let myself be.

In fact, I gave Blink 182 some credit; they had some catchy songs with funny videos (which always kind of upped it for me since I like their tongue in cheek bit). Also, there was something that they captured in spirit that was so very high school... you know, the part you didn't want to admit to, the being so earnest and needing everyone to understand all the things!  I was starting to take a step back and kind of remember that from a place removed. Little by little I was still learning.

So it's no surprise that these days I will find myself copping to all sorts of "uncool" things for adults and people with an Industrial/Goth bend.

Which brings me back to Blink 182.

I recently had a friend say she thought it was silly that bands like them were still writing songs about high school shit... or something like that. About crazy girls they fell in love with and juvenile mistakes that were made. These guys are in their... what? late 30s/early 40s? And here they are writing the same old thing.

Well, here I am, far removed from high school and guess what?! I'm writing about high school shit. Partly because I think we need some more honest and real books in the Young Adult genre and partly because I'd like to advocate for mental health via this medium. Lastly, it's because sometimes I still go through these things and it helps.

I feel like you might be lying to yourself if you say that you don't... that you don't sometimes regress to the teen angst and emotion that you had because of something that hurt you or really pissed you off. I'm trying to channel these feelings in writing a book for that age range so there's that, too, and the music really helps.

What's being an adult, anyway? Who doesn't at some point have some sort of emotion that's akin to their teenage self? Maybe being an adult is being able to feel these emotions and know that they're part and parcel to growing up... evolving/ever learning or whatever. Maybe it's all part of being attuned with who you are and the many things that come with it. I don't know.

I just know that sometimes it's not knowing what to feel and if it's ok. I know that we just need to ride the waves of it all, learn what we're feeling and how to handle it... and sometimes not... because that's ok, too.

In closing, hahhahahhaa, I would like to add the argument that I think the bands know who their audience is and how to keep it going. I think they might even use the music as a channel for their own feelings. I mean, I could be ridiculously wrong and everyone might be childish. Still, I'd rather they channel what they know, what they're good at, and what reaches their audience than cross over into adult contemporary. *shudders* I've always wondered when and how that happens... Sting used to be cool, U2 used to be less... mega and more raw. They were a thing when they began... a new thing in the music scene. So what happened? Should they have tried to still channel some of their teenage angst?

Maybe.

I know I'd be able to relate to them more.

Ok, time for my daily World of Warcraft break. heh.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

In trying to write the book I'm trying to write (following me?), I keep restarting.

Why?!

Well, it's quite simple and yet not.

The book I want to write is complicated in that I want it to convey truth... errr... emotions? experiences? correctly and well.




The first idea seemed too contrived. The second idea was too planned out and the emotion was sorter... dragged out causing it to be overdramatic. The third was too "afterschool special." So this fourth one... and fifth.... and sixth? are kind of me throwing darts to see what hits.

Is it the idea? Is it the writer? Is it the way I'm trying to tell the story?

Je n'ai aucune idée.

I don't want to force it and I can't seem to proceed any other way because it just doesn't feel right. To plan or not to plan? I've done both including the former in greater or lesser forms and I just can't hit it.

Yep.

This is where I'm currently stuck as I stare at my manuscript on Scrivener.

Saturday, June 10, 2017

The Brides

OR
How I went from this

to this 
(except without the tracksuit)

Would you believe this blog started as something I wanted to do for my second wedding? Yep. SECOND

I had married young before that. Well... young in my mind. To most? I was 22... and that is young, in my opinion. 

I used to believe in love. Well, I still believe in love but I used to believe in it in that really blind wholehearted way. I love him, he loved me, forever and ever, and all that. We eloped because our families thought we were nutsos (also, he's Canadian so we kind of had to get proceedings started if I wanted him in the US). 

Well, let me tell you... that was a mistake. But I learned from it and found out that love is not that easy. 

So the second one was kind of not my idea. The ex-boyo wanted it and I had to be convinced because divorce was not something I wanted to do again. That sounds like I'm being negative, I know, but go along with me here. It's not that I thought we wouldn't make it. On the contrary, I thought we would last. However! I was wary just in case. I mean, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition, and by this point, I was just being realistic.

And... see???? I was right, damn it all. 

Today I celebrate my 1 year wedding anniversary to the third husband. That's right... I kept on going. 

Mainly, it's because I believe that there's still something to the whole married thing. There's some sort of bond that ties you together in a different way. Maybe it's the ceremony, the public pledge, something like spellcasting. You have to believe in the thing in order to make it something. So I keep looking for the right something. 

Of course, that's how it feels to me. I don't necessarily think that it applies to everyone or that this is the Truth with a capital "t." You know, that thing everyone looks for that is supposed to be universal. 

Where was I going with this???
Oh yeah! 

I've been with #3 for 7 years and married 1 year. It's hard. It's great. It's distressing. It's exquisite. 
It's everything. It's complicated, it's tough... and because of that, it's beautiful and worth it. 

I know it's not love like I thought love is, that I am aware of who he is and who I am, and that we're working to evolve - both individually and together. Because of that, I went from thinking I was made for someone (and vice versa) to thinking that I was strong enough to face anything that was sent my way, with a better understanding of how this works. 

... a better understanding, mind you, not a full understanding. I don't know that I know that quite yet or ever will but I do know a lot and I've come a long way.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

The Big Why

Yesterday, an acquaintance of mine/friend of Stephen's committed suicide.

It was sudden and hard to take. In the late morning, he had posted a picture of his dogs that he loved very much. By early afternoon, he was found dead... or rather, his note was found.

This was a man who had survived much and had devoted his time to taking care of himself and trying to help others that had battled drug and alcohol addiction through counseling. He was well respected for what he did and loved for his spirit, ever positive.

Because of that, it's tough to handle his suicide. He was an inspiration to many and had offered a hand to my boyo when he needed someone to listen and understand. So why suicide? How did he get there? It's a question I've asked a couple of times before.

The first time was when a friend hung herself back in... 2006? Not to say that there weren't any suicides - successful or not - prior to this but this was the first to make me ask this question. We had a lot of traits in common and we shared a last name of sorts; hers was given and mine via my mother. We had a propensity to get ourselves into sticky situations, to throw caution to the wind, and to crash just as suddenly. She was bipolar and took meds... until she didn't. I was not yet diagnosed.

Even then, though, I had to ask... how did she get there?? What made her do it? And scarier still, if she got there, when will I get that bad? I loved life too much to ever get there, even in the darkest of times, I told myself. I never wanted death. I knew then that there was more to what I felt, yet I still didn't equate it with Bipolar Disorder. Due to that realization, I had to wonder, when will that be me? As though I had a degenerative disease... and maybe in a sense, I did. Who knows? Unmedicated and undiagnosed, I might have. Then again, the Unsinkable Ceci may not have ever had the reasons to get there. I had survived a lot... seriously A LOT, but even when it looked so dark and I didn't think I would get out of it, I never contemplated death.

So now, I'm here again, looking at the question of... why? And to a degree, what makes me different? Will I still get there one day?

Most importantly, though, why?

People always talk about making sure you know you can reach out to loved ones, to remember that you're not alone. But... my bipolar friend, my cousin (I wrote about this a couple of years ago), and now this friend, have reminded me that it's not always about our support system. Well, the only one I can say that about for sure is my cousin but I have to extend it as a possibility to the other two. Both had people who were there for them, who they talked to... or in as much as they could, possibly keeping back the worst as we're all prone to do.

Sometimes... sometimes it's about the battle and what one can take. Sometimes they just can't fight anymore and don't want to keep living with it. Sometimes... sometimes it's about how long we can survive, I suppose.

Maybe I'm wrong... but I know for Adrian, that was it. He said it to his mom... and it makes perfect sense to me. I'd want out of this, too, if the battle was too much to bear. 

As to me, I don't know. I'll just keep battling because this is not a battle I want to succumb to; this - the ups and downs - means too much to me to stop fighting. 


Friday, June 2, 2017

Battles




"She has saved this town and its people from countless monsters countless times. That the battles are usually in her head does not lessen the bravery of it. The hardest battles always are.”"




from "Jackaby" by William Ritter


Thanks for the quote Leigh. 😊

Thursday, June 1, 2017


Something that's giving me a hard time with my bipolar is my attempt at levitation. That is to say, I stepped off the cliff of my full-time job to try my hand at library work and writing. It's a leap of faith and I'm hoping that it pays off and I reach my goal. 

Of course, my full-time job was crappy but paid well and had great benefits. My library job is part-time and my pay is about a quarter of what I used to make. The writing, of course, is strictly volunteer... or indentured slavery. Take your pick. 

I'm also babysitting on the side to gain a little extra pay to allow me to buy groceries and all that. I mean... I've got my husband but I feel like I have to contribute more than just the part-time pay so he doesn't panic on slow weeks (he's a tattoo artist, for anyone out there that doesn't know). He's told me he can hack it with just my part-time but I'm an idiot when it comes to taking the offered help (apparently).

So all of this instability is kind of playing with my head and I'm trying to figure out a way to counter it. The funny thing is that with all this freedom, one would think that it would be easier on my bipolar since I can do the things I like to do. I don't know what went wrong there. Maybe it's just the money worries... or the feeling that I'm a failure because I can't get a job in my field... nor is my writing going particularly well (in my opinion). 

Still... I try to remember that I can do this and that it's ok to not know the outcome. 

... but damn! is this stepping off the cliff thing hard! 

;;