Sunday morning. Finally writing again. Writing? What is that? My job? Ugh. Yeah.
Lately I’ve been caught up with other things. Mainly reorganizing my studio to give myself a more productive work space. It took some time, but I finally got there. You know, except for the giant pile of laundry on the floor, but it wouldn’t be my room if that wasn’t a prominent feature, right? The important part is that I have my desks all organized and my writing stuff ready to go. I’ve got brochures pinned to my cork board, maps on my wall, a white board calendar, and all of my binders, notebooks, and supplies organized. I’ve even got a snack drawer. Yes, I am ready to be a professional Writer Extraordinaire. No one can stop me now! Mwa hahahaha!
The other major feature of my new studio design is the yoga/dance space! Right now, it’s literally just an extra door I put over the carpet. It’s laminated wood so I can dance on it or lay my yoga mat out. The only problem is that it’s actually hollow. I need to find a more permanent solution. The portable dance floors online are expensive though, so… motivation to work harder, I guess. In the meantime, I started a 30-day yoga challenge for flexibility and started doing dance classes on YouTube. Just having the space right there makes it so much easier for me. I find it to be such an ordeal to get to the gym on time, find a space, settle in, get the vibe, etc. Plus I hate seeing people I know in town right now because it gives me major anxiety. Now I can just skip all that shit, put on the space heater, change into yoga pants, and do a 30-minute routine whenever I feel like it. Zero stress. Just good vibes.
Right now, it’s all about mindset for me. Having my own space in order again makes me feel better. Yes, it’s still at home, which sucks, but at least it’s my space and it’s not in total chaos anymore. My head feels clearer. I can actually look at the business plan I made and chip away at it. It’s going slowly. It’s taking forever. Some days I get caught in the negative feedback loop playing in my head and it makes it so hard to write. I couldn’t understand why until someone recently put a voice to how I was feeling instead of gaslighting me, calling me crazy, and telling me to go kill myself like people around here usually do. She said, “It must have really hurt you to put yourself out there like that and share such personal things only to be attacked and degraded in return.” Actually, yes, it does hurt. It hurts a lot. I am not a weak person for admitting that I am not an invincible stone goddess who never feels emotions and doesn’t let words hurt me. Some days it hurts so much that I don’t even bother trying to numb it down because I already know it’s not going to work. It hurts so much that I can’t even write a 500-word SEO-driven blog post about beauty product recommendations. That has nothing to do with my personal life at all. It’s a completely neutral topic. It’s easy. So, so, so easy. And yet… I crash and break down whenever I look at a blank page because I’m in so much pain all the time.
Am I doing therapy to help me work through this shit? You’re goddamn right I am. I need it after dealing with that crazy cult full of assholes. But still. It takes time. And that sucks. The good news is, I’ve stopped drinking over it. Mostly because my 33-year-old body finally said, “Look, I can’t do this anymore. I literally can’t. Literally. So just light up a joint, take a bubble bath, and meditate. Stop poisoning me and start taking care of me!” Okay, got it. Now that’s what I do. It’s working out great!
So great, in fact, that when I did go out for the SDSU game, I actually had FUN instead of sitting alone feeling sad. I ended up running into a bunch of other alumni from when I was at school and we had a blast playing Bar Golf. There was no drama, no gossip, no backstabbing, no bad vibes at all. Just a bunch of 30-something alumni reminiscing about the good old days at Uni and wondering where life is taking us next. It was a fantastic afternoon. I was actually able to look at Verm objectively and say, “You know what? I did have some great times here and I’m always going to have those memories. I’m always going to remember all my crazy nights downtown and I’m always going to have a fondness for Bloody Mary’s in particular. No one is ever going to take that away from me, no matter how low they stoop.”
And then I wrote a story about turning all those dickbags at Bloody Mary’s into a variety of barnyard animals, just because I was so inspired by the defeat of SDSU. You can read it in the book when I publish it, whenever that is. Idk I’m on like the 21st draft so WHO KNOWS! In the meantime, I just avoid any and all interaction with any of those people. Literally everything they’ve been screaming at me the last few years is listed out and explained in all of the books I’m reading for therapy. Classics such as:
- “No one cares!”
- “No one likes you!”
- “I never said that!”
- “I never did that!”
- “What blog? I don’t know anything about a blog.” (usually said after being confronted to their face about something they said about my blog)
- “You NEVER listen to anyone!”
- “You make everything about you.”
- “I don’t read your blog!” (usually said after the person has read every single post and thrown a tantrum)
- “You’re just doing it for attention!”
- Blah blah blah
- Etc etc etc.
Yeah, all of that is what narcissistic abusers say to their victims in order to gaslight them. The other crazy behaviors they’re exhibiting are also listed out, such as gaslighting, victim-blaming, invalidating all of my experiences/feelings, gossiping behind my back, spreading malicious rumors, openly mocking my mental health, using sexist slurs to describe me, the constant screaming meltdowns, refusing to take any responsibility for their words/actions, refusing to apologize, stonewalling, and all other attempts to isolate me from the community. Yeah, all of that stuff is considered bright red glaring flags that I’m dealing with a narcissistic abuser. In other words, I’m not the “crazy” one. In fact, men just call anything and everything women do “crazy.” That word actually has no meaning whatsoever! That’s why I NeVeR LiStEn to these jerks or take them seriously. They’re just petty misogynist bullies and I have absolutely zero respect for any of them.
I’ve started feeding myself this mental script daily so it stops hurting me. Just send that energy right back to them. All of this is a reflection of them, not of me. I’m not a bad person. I started this blog to stand up for myself against people like this. I’m still standing up for myself five years later. I’m not going to crumple because some asshole with untreated mental illness is screaming at me to go kill myself in the middle of the street in broad daylight. That’s insane. Who does that? I’m not doing that! That’s fucking psycho. The person who did that is a psycho. They hang out with a bunch of other psychos just like them. That is 100% a reflection of who they are on the inside and it is UGLY.
So yeah, definitely keeping a strong distance from that crazy townie shit. The more I think back on things, the more I realize that the source of all the drama in my life since moving here has been townies hovering around university students. If Verm was the cave in Harry Potter, the students would be Harry & Dumbledore and the townies would be the zombie things trying to lure them into the water and drag them down into the depths, never to return. So now I’ve recognized that pattern and have resolved to just avoid the townies altogether.
I’m too old for this shit now. I graduated high school in 2007. I’ve lived through a pandemic. I don’t care anymore. I want to travel and see the world. I want to be a great writer. I have dreams and goals and an epic bucket list to complete while I still have my freedom as a woman. I can’t be stuck in the mud anymore.
Like I said before, it’s all about the mindset. I am very busy and important. It’s the end of the semester. I have a massive To Do list I need to focus on:
- 4 online courses that I’m SO close to finishing but have been dragging on
- 2 books to finish, edit, and publish.
- Starting new blog
- A million residency/conference/school/job applications to fill out
- Build my freelance portfolio/business
- Manage finances responsibly
You know, real professional things that real writers do. Not worrying about whatever some drunk loser said about me this week. Just working on getting things done on top of eating healthy, working out, staying hydrated, and getting enough sleep at night. My priority right now is me. That’s okay. It’s not narcissistic or selfish to take care of my own needs. It’s called self-care and it’s essential for people like me who struggle with things like depression, anxiety, and PTSD. It doesn’t make me weak. It doesn’t make me “crazy,” whatever that word even means at this point. It means I value myself and want to take care of myself instead of poisoning my mind and body with a steady diet of alcohol and emotional abuse.
My sincerest hope is that anyone out there who is reading this and struggling with the same issues feels inspired to take back control of their life. I hope my difficult journey shows you that it’s not the end of the world and you can bounce back from traumatic life experiences. I hope someday I can create something better than this blog that does a much job of inspiring others. I hope one person in this absolutely insane clown world we are living in reads this and decides not to give up on life because of it. If I can accomplish that, my life will have been meaningful.
On that note, I’m off to write something that isn’t this. This blog sucks, I know. Please be patient with me. I’ve been through SO MUCH, you guys. I haven’t had a break in traumatic events in at least a decade and a half. I’m taking some time to heal from everything so I can be the best version of me and share my writing gift with the world. I have so much to offer, so much to give, so much to do. This time on Earth seems so limited, especially now that it seems like we won’t even have a world in ten years time. I want to make the most of it. So, like I said, please bear with me as I learn to make peace with myself. Thank you again for being my audience and making me feel like my stories matter. You are the reason I’m still here and I will always be grateful to you for that.
Be well. <3