Category Archives: Writing

by | August 28, 2015 · 4:17 pm

Depression: From the Inside Out


I usually consider myself a fairly up-beat person. If nothing else, my ability to find humor in the oddest places helps to keep me sane. Unfortunately, depression has ever-increasingly consumed my life lately. I’m not sure if it’s because, at 41, I’m closer to menopause – and all the symptoms (including increased depression) which accompany that milestone – or if it can be attributed to something else entirely. Perhaps it’s because I’m focusing – for the first time in my life – on speaking openly about and learning the affects childhood sexual abuse has on my mental and physical health, while at the same time struggling to raise (and understand) an adolescent boy who lives with ADHD and Asperger’s? I don’t know. Suffice to say, if I must suffer with depression, I want to be able to survive with my sanity intact. So, for me, that means talking – and writing – about it. From the inside. I don’t know how depression looks from the inside to anyone else, but I’d like to tell you what my depression looks like to me…

Depression-1 Cropped

red runs through my brain. nerve endings are sensitive. everything becomes its own little Broadway drama. i shut down because if i don’t everyone will be caught up in the hurricane that consumes my mind. i don’t talk much. ocd feeds my depression. i suffer mostly with the obsessive part of ocd. if i tell you i’m “stalking” you & grin or wink, i’m mostly joking. but there’s a very real part of me that does obsess, does wish to stalk. to get as close as i can to you (that’s why they call it “obsessive”). but that’s illegal and people would have me committed, so i keep a lid on it. my compulsions aren’t usually anything useful, like cleaning the house. no, i’m compelled to count the letters and numbers on billboards, license plates and various other signage. boring and very, very useless.

when my obsession(s) is/are, for whatever reason, unavailable to me…either because i’m attempting to appear normal & sane, or because they’re just unreachable for a time, then my depression deepens. i know, insane, right? the irony is, i don’t know if these are symptoms of my survival of child sexual abuse or if they’d have been part of my personality either way. my abuser took my innocence and trauma rerouted the synapses in my brain before my personality could be truly known (although, my grandmother reportedly told my mother when i was just a few days old that i would be trouble. sooo…). i don’t really know who i am, who i’m supposed to be. some attempts at discovery (writing and editing) have met with surprising success. other attempts (marriage) have met with crushing failure.

Photo from Unsplash.com Credit: Wyman H.

Photo from Unsplash.com Credit: Wyman H.

purple streaks bruise the darkness of my mind. The white-chalk Cliffs of Dover and long drops appear suddenly and i weave violently to avoid falling. sometimes i fall. if i’m lucky, a ledge catches me. if it doesn’t, i fall into the deep, narrow pit of depression. the sides of the pit are almost completely vertical. where did the hand and toeholds go? sometimes it takes a while to emerge. all the while functioning, attempting to be normal for the sake of those around me so they don’t wonder and ask what’s wrong. because i’m so close to tears at this point and cannot explain what’s wrong with me. because i’m not even sure myself. except that the demons have come out to play, to taunt me with what i don’t have with what i cannot have with what i am not with what i never will be. pushing them back behind the door at the bottom of the pit again and securing the padlock that hangs on rusty hinges takes all the energy i don’t have. i’m exhausted. and i cannot replace the lock, the rusty hinges. i don’t know how or where to find replacements.

my therapist sees the anger and the desperation and the depression and the despair and the darkness that lurk within. i try not to let others see. what will people think? i don’t know if this is para-menopause or if it’s just Wendy. is this depression and ocd or symptoms of something more? the one constant in my depression is music. not books, not people. music-mostly instrumental or few lyrics. this session of depression’s playlist (if you care to know) has been full of enigma’s a posteriori & love sensuality devotion, draconian’s a rose for the apocalypse & turning season within, really slow motion’s iron poetry, chopin’s nocturnes, imagine dragons’ radioactive (from night visions) and two steps from hell’s invincible (don’t really like their name, but love their music). i don’t know how long this bout of depression will last. it started about a week ago. the last one was on and off for the whole month of June (as in, 2 months ago). it pretty much has to work itself out of my system, i guess.

i become an automaton. i ask no questions. i don’t want to know. i don’t really care at this point. i struggle to care. i can’t people. i don’t adult very well either. i do my work and avoid people as much as possible. my focus is inward. i’m selfish. even my son suffers lack of my attention during this time. fortunately he’s mostly independent so i don’t have to worry about being arrested for child neglect. i just can’t people. too much drama. too many eyes. too many breaths. too many hands and fingers and feet and toes. too many smells. too many voices. too much noise. just. too. much. i’m a mass of nerve endings. i hunch inward around them. trying to protect them. because if you brush up against the wrong one, i might implode. i’ll fall apart. maybe not in front of you because that just makes people uncomfortable. but in private i fall apart. i try to keep the implosions to a minimum because they make the depression worse. there’s a lot of self-deprecation and self-flagellation and self-recrimination going on inside.

Depression-3 Croppedsometimes i want people to ask questions. just so i know they care. but they usually don’t know the right questions to ask. and i don’t know how to tell them which questions are the right ones. if i knew, don’t you think i’d answer them so i could go back to being me? sometimes i just want to be held. ask me what i want. what will pull me from this depression? what will work this time? i don’t know. i can think of a dozen things over which i obsess at various times, but will any one or more of them pull me from depression this time? i don’t know. i just want oblivion. want to slink into the cave of my room, cocoon myself in my bed and be one with oblivion. at least temporary oblivion. until this passes.

maybe tomorrow the sun will shine again.

 

(The depression finally began to dissipate after about a week. I’m beginning to feel like my usual self again. But I know it will return. If only it would adhere to a set schedule, I could be prepared…)

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Filed under ADHD, Anxiety, Blogging, Depression, Life, Mental Health, Writing

by | August 21, 2015 · 5:35 pm

Mind You’re Grammar – Part Deux (II)


Okay, my lovelies, it’s time for another “episode” of Mind You’re Your Grammar, from your indulgent “Grammar Nazi”! 🙂

An apostrophe does not plurality – or possessive – make. I addressed this briefly in Mind You’re Grammar, but it needs more emphasis, I think.

In MOST instances, an aIf you don't like my edits...postrophe indicates possession or contraction: Wendy’s opinion (possession); They’ve almost arrived (contraction of “they” and “have”).

I’ve (there it is again – an apostrophe indicating contraction) seen quite a lot of instances where people throw in a random apostrophe when differentiating between singular and plural…especially notice this in my day job.

Example: “Two W/M’s were seen leaving the scene of the crime.” The use of an apostrophe in this case tells me that “two white male’s were seen…” and that makes NO sense whatsoever. There is no possession or contraction in that sentence. It’s the reporter’s way of trying (and failing) to indicate plurality. It should be written: “Two W/Ms were seen…” so when it’s written out long-hand, the phrase will read correctly: “Two white males were seen…”

I understand the mistake – I’ve made it myself, many, many moons ago (Yes, shocking, I know. 😉 ) – we’re uncomfortable with placing an “s” at the end of a word or acronym or number, without sticking an apostrophe between it and the “s”. This is why many people write: “In the 1990’s” (indicates POSSESSION) instead of “In the 1990s” (indicates PLURALIZATION). As if we expect “1990” to be more insulted by pluralization than possession.Overuse of THAT3 Cropped

Another biggie THAT many authors – NOT just newbies – make, is overuse of the word “that.” Sometimes it fits. Other times, it’s just too much; unnecessary window dressing. And if you’re referring to PEOPLE, please, please, use WHO or WHOM, not THAT. Here are some examples:

“I’m so happy THAT so many newbies make so many mistakes.” (Rachel Thompson used this example in #GravityChat on August 19th when asking my opinion on the use of “that”.) This sentence DOES NOT need “that” – in this case, it’s too much window dressing. It reads better as: “I’m so happy so many newbies make so many mistakes.” (Erm…we could have a case of overused “so” in that sentence. 😉 )

And when referring to people: “They’re the friends that I had dinner with last night.” PEOPLE are “who” or “whom” not “that!” This sentence should read: “They’re the friends with WHOM I had dinner last night.” OR “They’re the friends WHO I had dinner with last night.” Either of these re-phrased sentences is acceptable. 🙂

Here are some additional common mistakes (yes, I’ve made them to too) to be aware of when your you’re crafting your current or next WIP, blog post, etc.

  • We’re – conjunction of “we are”; WE’RE going to be late if we don’t leave now.
  • Were – past tense of “are”; WERE you at the party last night?
  • Where – a place; WHERE do you want to meet for lunch?
  • Then – a point in time; If that’s when you will arrive, THEN that’s when I’ll see you.
  • Than – a method of comparison; I’d rather have the salmon THAN the cod.Grammar Police
  • Two – the number 2 spelled out; I’ll take TWO of those, please.
  • To – indicates motion; We’re going TO the pier.
  • Too – also or excessively; That is TOO much information.

Once again, my lovely misspellers, go forth, even BETTER armed for the writing battles ahead! Your you’re welcome! 🙂

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Filed under Editor, Literature, Proofreader, Writing

by | July 9, 2015 · 2:43 pm

The Anticipation of Waiting


My friend (er…at least I THINK we’re friends…we talk, so…) and fellow writer, Matthew Eaton posted this week on his blog something that got me thinking (shocking, I know): In his post titled Embrace Uncertainty and Find Peace in Silence Matt talked about the personal growth that can result from being uncertain and uncomfortable, and how to find comfort in uncertainty and the silence sometimes required by patiently WAITING for a response from people or from life. Reading this, I squirmed and hunched my shoulders in DISCOMFORT.

But, interest peeked, I read the entire post. It was very insightful. Humans are not the most patient of creatures. (Funny enough, I don’t think Matt once mentioned the word “patience” – and yes, I did reread his post, just to be sure. But that’s what kept jumping out at me: PATIENCE.) Perhaps you, Dear Reader, ARE a patient person. (Kudos to you!) Patience IS NOT one of my more admirable qualities. I realize this about myself, and when I’m impatient about something, I TRY to play it cool…distracting myself with another activity to pass the time…like sleeping…and often, I’m still unsuccessful…but the learning continues…

Most of our lives involve waiting. In the midst of sharing with Matt my thoughts on his post, I had an epiphany: If we could do EVERYTHING in our own time, at our own will, then perhaps those things we most want out of life – or ourselves – wouldn’t be so important to us upon the procuring. Almost as if the waiting, the anticipation of being able to finally have what we want, makes it all the more valuable and appreciated.

Anticipation

Anticipation

Okay, maybe you, Dear Reader, had this epiphany at a young age. But I’ve always been a bit of a late bloomer (*cough* hard-headed *cough*), so this “epiphany” hasn’t ever presented itself to me in such a positive, obvious manner before. It’s always been more like, “What?! I have to wait?? BUT WHY??!!” Just ask my mother what my favorite phrase was from a young age.

Go on ask her. I’ll wait right here.

*Checks watch, hums and taps fingernails on the desk*

Never mind. I can’t wait that long. I’ll tell you myself. It was: “But I WANT it!” Even a very young Wendy hated to wait. When we’re impatient, we make mistakes…often, those mistakes are life-altering. And this brings up an unpleasant memory: 4-year-old me, tempted with chocolate by a 12-year-old boy who touched her in places and in ways he had no business violating and penetrating. Afterward telling her not to tell anyone. Which of course she did. And I wonder, was that the greed and impatience of a little girl for a sweet? Or merely an innocent lured by an older “friend,” someone she trusted and who knew better, someone who should’ve protected her? I don’t blame myself anymore. But sometimes…

This impatience led me to: 1) date a lovely boy who was emotionally abusive (lovely to look at, not such a lovely personality when he didn’t get his way); 2) a failed marriage (because I married a different physically lovely man who wasn’t good for me – not abusive, just neglectful and apathetic; abusive in its own way) and single-parenthood; not realizing my dream of being published IN PRINT until last year…though that one may have been more a matter of procrastination and low self-confidence than impatience. Just to name a few examples.

So fast-forward several decades (that makes me sound older than I usually feel!) to now. At 41, I’m still as impatient as ever. My guardian angelBut I like to think I channel it, control it better than I did in my youth and 20s. For one thing, I’m finally beginning to reach some of the goals I set for myself way back when. In addition to being a published writer/author, I’m also being paid to READ!!! How awesome is THAT!! 🙂 It’s an honor to put to good use those years of education and experience editing and proofreading fellow authors’ manuscripts in preparation for publication. (I can now cross that off my bucket list.) And I have a good, bill-paying, day job as a Crime Analyst in county government. (Another tick off the ole bucket list.)

My years as a single parent (impatiently waiting for him to GROW UP ALREADY!…JK…no really, grow up, son!!) are starting to pay off: my kiddo is a tall, handsome, brilliant (smart-mouthed, frustrating, opinionated…umm, er…*ahem*) affectionate, 14-year-old young man, on the cusp of manhood. And high school (*groan*). And though parenthood never ends, he’s becoming more independent (like fixing his own food…sometimes! YAY!) and capable of great things. Everything I could’ve wanted for him…the ADHD and Asperger’s mix is just one aspect of his charming personality.

So. What do I wait for now? I’m glad you asked. Now I wait (and work toward) financial independence (and all that comes with it), student loan debt forgiveness (meanwhile, paying them down), an intimate, adventurous relationship with a lovely man (read: SEX!…if it’s in the cards), the time and means to travel the world attending Book Fairs, haunting bookstores, meeting IRL (for you non-techies, that means “In Real Life”) friends I’ve made through the vehicle of social media, and my publisher, Booktrope.

And while I wait, I’m determined to put my time to good use. Growing in experience and proficiency as an analyst, continuing to (voraciously) read, edit, proofread, write, build my brand, save money, and cultivate friendships. Oh, and, work to not be so impatient. 😉

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Filed under Bucketlist, Life, Musings, Writing