I am a horrible blogger. I know it’s true, you know it’s true. I am sorry for that. My life isn’t even really that hectic, I am just a smidge lazy these days. Trying to get in the groove of my new job and balancing the writing takes some getting used too. Let’s move on from here and I promise to do my best to blog more than once a month.
I can do that.
So what’s new folks? Me? Well, I have decided to just say fuck it and write about the shit that really scares me. I have heard them ( you know who THEY are don’t you?) say you need to write what you know. Well, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but I sure as shit ain’t the dullest. So let’s dig in shall we?
I started nanwrimo this month and while I am a little behind I am determined to try my best to finish. I have the story and I have been handwriting it on my commute. I just need to transfer it to my draft.
That shit is fucking hard yo! There is no sweet non-cussing way to say it. It just is. I think the most difficult thing that I tend to focus on is the trust. I never realized how much of a trust issue I had until I started writing. Now I find myself second guessing almost everything that is said to me looking for the hidden insult lying around in there.
I was taught from the best when it came to backhanded compliments. I also have some serious mother issues. Yeah yeah big surprise, who doesn’t right? Those that know me know I have never had that great of a relationship with my mom. I was the starter kid. (you know which one that is right?) I think I reminded her too much of my dad and dad may not really l know this but from what she said to me, she fucking HATED him with the fury of a thousand suns. Maybe hate is too strong a word. Loathe comes to mind or evil minded vengeance is probably the best way to really describe it.
This is not really the platform to go into any detail but suffice it to say that it’s really a wonder I became a functioning member of society.
I thought that shit was normal you know? How was I supposed to know it wasn’t? There is no guide for that kinda shit. And all my other friends had to deal with it as well, so we really all just assumed it was supposed to be like that. Appearantly trauma attracts trauma. It’s like a secret fucking society that you have to be hazed into. Really you only learn about how abnormal it is after the fact. Which I personally think is super fucked up. But what do I know? I was just a kid. A bad-ass kid who gave as good as I got. Maybe I am over-reacting. Maybe it really wasn’t that bad and I am just having a hard time dealing with it. You see what I mean about trust? Shit, I can barely trust myself let alone others.
Which brings me to my next point. How am I supposed to write what I know when all I think about when I sit down is my wonderfully shitty adolescence? I don’t want to write about that. I don’t want to ever think about that shit again. I have a fabulous life now and I pray that it wasn’t a mistake and gets taken from me. Lord knows I may in fact deserve it.
Scratch that, I made some of the best friends out of those experiences so I take that back. I still hang out with them today in fact. Friends are family you choose right. Thank god for them or else I would have gone bat shit crazy.
So after much deliberating, I have decided to just do it and quit fucking around. ( my husband says that a lot) I have tried to block so much of it out so I really don’t know how accurate it will be. I can only tell what I remember of my side.
We all have hurts, not harder or easier, just different. We all deal with them in different fashions. This is my way.
Now because I never had a story book teenage life I will obviously have to take some creative liscense or for the layman, I will make some shit up. Which means I can market it as fiction. I think that’s what it means. I really have no idea. But that is what I plan to do. It will be like a game, figure out which parts are real. Fun huh? Okay enough with the depressing shit, I am actually at work so I should probably get back to doing some so I can fund this wacky dream I have.
I will leave you with a quote that I fucking love.
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent” Eleanor Roosevelt