Tag Archives: work

Working things out

My goal for sending my work out to look for representation in October is still on the cards!  I am determined to do this, but I do feel that I am a little stupid for it.

Not that I don’t think I can do it, I know I can!  But what makes me feel stupid is the fact that these neurological problems seem to be getting worse, far worse…

Motor Neurone runs in my family, but my GP thinks I could have MS.  Yesterday (the 16th August, as this is a pre-written piece), I was standing for a couple of minutes talking to Paul, then I took just one step to get nearer to him and my leg went floppy and I injured my toes and the muscles in the whole of my right foot.  This happens or rather something similar to this has happened off and on for about five years, but never to that extent!

For example, I’d be walking and then momentarily my knees lose strength and almost give way – never actually making me fall, but having near misses.

Along with this, for the past year now I have been having language difficulties.  For the first time since my childhood my stammer has come back and sometimes my lisp, something I thought I got rid of entirely when I was fifteen!

Along with this I am making very elementary spelling mistakes.  Mistaking things a lot even in speech as well as typing them; here are some example:

Wake becomes walk

Book becomes Brock

Lesson becomes lessen

Alright becomes all write

Those are just some examples of what is happening in speech occasionally and this is why, I can’t write on a laptop unless pushed – my laptop is laggy, in fact I don’t get to see what I have typed until the second or third paragraph!

It may not be neurological, but I am scared it is; it could just be stress and lack of concentration because I live in a household where my son and partner scream rather than talk to each other!

Motor neurone has taken the lives of two aunts on my father’s side of the family and my grandad and is ruining the lives of two cousins.

My legs and arms often wake me up at night as they randomly go numb and dead and cannot be used, Paul is struggling with sleep because he has to help rub life back into them again, so I can move!

It’s very scary!

The idea I had of getting independence may literally only be a dream, I may never get the independence I want, because of things like this!

The days I don’t write is not because I can’t be bothered, because I want to write almost all of the time!  But the problem comes when some days my shoulders don’t have the strength to lift my arms enough to be able to type.   Writing by hand is ok if I don’t write more than two A4 sheets worth of stuff, before my hand swells, as I do have rheumatic arthritis!

Paul has been trying to save up for months now to get something called DRAGON where I can speak my ideas onto the computer, so I can write on my bad days – but we’re not even halfway in the savings for that yet – not to mention I desperately need a new desktop PC as my one is not coping since the heatwave!

It’s all scary.  I have these dreams of being a writer/screenwriter and brainstorming for movies and TV series with people eventually, but really my body may let me down and I hate disappointing people.

My intentions are good, my heart is in it and I am raring to go, but my body has other ideas!

Paul and I understand that I have muscle wasting problems with the arthritis and we’ve found a diet to help prevent further muscle wasting, but again, we don’t have the budget for that as we are literally classed as a disadvantaged family here in the UK and often receive charity help.

I am too proud to think about crowdfunding like the lady from a charity has said we should consider, not only that but we’re worried about whether it could be classed as a gift or is it taxable?

Anyways, I am not happy with doing that!

But what I have been thinking about is offering services online soon which will help pay for it, through Patreon perhaps, but as long as it is not glorified begging, I am ok with it!

I have thought about using Patreon to sell short stories to those who donate through it – other options are selling short stories through Fiver or setting up Ebooks on Amazon.

We’re going to figure it out!

I am happy that in other ways, my health is stabilising, that is my breathing, my energy levels, my digestive problems and psoriasis as well as my mental health – all that seems to be stabilising, though it could just be just a long remission – hope not!

So I can then plan to think about doing things outside of the house more; such as, I really miss being involved with amateur dramatics and prop making and I miss volunteer work!

I really miss the musical theatres in particular!

Paul and loads of other people have been trying to encourage me to consider singing as a career, but I am not happy with it as a full-time career as it can be very arduous on your voice overall; they also believe I could be really successful as a voice over, but I have pushed against that as a career a lot, much to the chagrin of American friends who work for radio, one in Kentucky the other in Nevada!

I wasn’t even swayed with a $250 an hour promise.  Are voice actors really worth that much?  If so, wow!  But I didn’t want to move to Nevada and this was offered to me when I was pregnant with Henry and we didn’t experience this kind of poverty back then, had it been offered now, we might consider it – not sure, we’re attached to our little village!

Paul has a three hundred year history in this village that Henry is proud of continuing!

I had thought about selling my voice on fiver, but I am not sure how all of that yet.  Need to do some research into that – but at the moment my writing is priority.

I’ll keep you updated soon about things.

Happy reading!

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PC semi-fried

My desktop PC seems to have got semi fried over the extreme heatwave we’ve had here in the UK, despite my efforts to place a fan at it to help it cool down.

I do have a laptop however, but that is not my preferred method of writing, because it lags when I am typing – the laptop doesn’t like ninety words per minute and the “s” button often gets stuck and needs to be double clicked most of the time!

The lag is so bad that I am usually halfway through the second paragraph when the computer actually starts making the former words appear.

I also make more typos on a laptop than I do on my desktop, so my writing slows down by a little more than half when I do it on a laptop.

It’s making me rather moody.

I am harsh on myself when I have set a goal and things like this just makes me inconsolable.

Happy reading!

P.S if my grandad was alive he’d be ninety nine today!

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My life in work

What work experience have I had?

I have been mostly unemployed in my adult life due to ill health, but I have worked in numerous organisations and I have a variety of skills that are not pertaining to creative pursuits.

I also want to clarify one essential thing here – I am not a drop out, because a drop out is someone who chooses to drop out of their own accord – I was pulled out and labelled a drop out by my family to other people.  But you must understand that my family were aggressive manipulators and I had to obey their wishes, because I was so sheltered I honestly thought, until I was twenty seven that a mother can’t be arrested for mental abuse, blackmail, brain washing and manipulation! 

My first ever unpaid job was a classroom assistant at an infant school in North London, I was there only for six weeks before the law changed that you had to have a minimal qualification in GNVQ level 1 or be a parent in order to continue working with children.  The head teacher was sorry to see me go, because she had also been my very first teacher when I was small.  She had intended to employ me after this work experience trial but due to law changes had to decline. 

I was in and out of school most of my childhood because my mother was inconsistent in maintaining my attendance score for scores of reasons!  The best score I ever had was 38% I had attended no less than fourteen individual schools between the age of five and fifteen and for as little as three days to eighteen months in attendance to them.  Most averaging three months, with long bouts of home education.

It really pained her to tell me I couldn’t stay in employment with her and was sure I’d go to university and become the primary school teacher I wanted to become.  My mother had different ideas.

You will find throughout my life until I broke off with my mother in 2012 that there were lots of different occupations I had trained for or endeavoured to have, but because she never approved of it, I never had a longstanding career in anything and lost many a job due to her behaviour.  But this is a post about my work life, not my obstacles pertaining to it!

My second ever occupation was working as an assistant at a hairdressing salon, for a family friend; because there was big issues and input in what I would and wouldn’t do according to my mum and my big brother, the idea of eventually becoming trained to work with this friend was ludicrous, because according to my brother only people who don’t have brains become hairdressers and I certainly have a brain he said and he intended that I use it!  Ouch, what a horrible comment to the beauty industry!  I know a lot of very clever and even academic ladies who are beauticians and hairdressers, it’s such a horrible stereotype what he said!

I only worked in the hairdressing salon for two months, because my brother hit the roof about it.

My third job was labelling glue bottles for my dad’s boss; it was a temporary job to get me over a summer break in college, where I was made to learn IT for two whole years, only for me to be pulled out in the last two months with no qualification! 

It wasn’t until I was twenty years old that I realised that my parents didn’t teach me that between jobs I could be getting money from the job centre and other disability benefits and I didn’t have a national insurance card until then either, because I wasn’t in education at the time either.  I had no idea that what my mother got me into was actually illegal, working without declaration and I was going to get into trouble for it!  When my mother let the cat out of the bag and explained what happened and how I genuinely was ignorant to what happened, things smoothed over – but mum had to fork the bill!

I have no idea to this day what the blazes happened in that office, other than I knew that if mum didn’t do whatever she did that day, we’d both have ended up in jail for fraud and I had no idea why and still don’t! 

My fourth job was working for my brother in his business as a receptionist for a few weeks before that fell flat due to his own customer service skills and lack of general dedication to the work!

My fifth job was working for MENCAP as a front desk receptionist and creative therapy assistant, my longest reigning job that lasted nearly two years, part time, three times a week for two hours in the morning; I absolutely loved that job but mum demanded more money from me and made me pull out of that for something that would financially improve her life!

My fifth job was working at The Camden Society, after being a client of the charity for eighteen months, because of severe PTSD affecting me finding work elsewhere, something horrible happened to me between these jobs.  This charity employed me themselves as a front desk receptionist for four months, before giving me a job as a key support worker for the charities café which is run by people with special needs.  I worked here for nine months in this role before being asked to leave due to financial cuts.

My sixth job was a two week wonder as a TESCO home shopper. 

My seventh job was for Christmas only at Marks and Spencer’s cashier.

My eighth job lasted two days due to interference from my mother – I became a fully trained health and safety officer and I couldn’t keep the job because my mother followed me to venues of observation and caused scenes.

My ninth job if I can call it that, was when I was trained to train security dogs and then get employed after the training, but after the training my mother made me give it up, because she didn’t want me bringing my work home with me!  Two German shepherd dogs twice a year, once trained I would lose them!   

My tenth job was a language support worker for Chinese children in a school in North London, I had this job only for two weeks, because I was uncomfortable with the boss and then my mother said something to him!

My eleventh job was a telephone tarot card reader, at home – the job lasted three days before I lost it due to complaints from the company I worked for that my mother could be heard at the other end of the phone berating my readings.

The last job I ever had was self-employed as an eBay seller, this stopped because my mother wouldn’t let me sell my things!

I gave up the last two years I lived with my mum and I let her control my life even more, because I just wanted to get on with my life and keep a job, so I left myself entirely in her hands!  I never had a job the whole time and I attended six different courses only completing two to certification and then I decided I had enough and left her.

I then became pregnant which held off employment because I wanted my son to be able to talk to me about what carers might have done to him before I got a job, by then, I had got too sick to work and lost further hearing in my left ear which makes telephone conversations impossible!  Along with this I also have splenomegaly and several auto-immune diseases, such as rheumatic arthritis, IBS, IBD, lupus, inner ear auto-immune disease and recently, doctors have me on a waiting list to confirm MS.

So there you have it, my life in work!

Thanks for reading!

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Books saved me from crime

I haven’t been raised to be who I am, I was raised to be something quite different and I fought against that system heartily because it felt wrong, corrupt and somewhat evil.

I read ferociously, reading was my weapons against self-destruction.

I am glad I took the quiet path and found solace within the pages of books – because the other path would have been a huge detriment to myself, my life, any offspring I had and perhaps a loss of art from my perspective – because the alternative path would have been a life of sordid means and running away from problems, skipping town to town to avoid being tracked by my past abusers and potentially I would have followed one of my older siblings into a life of crime.

Instead the path I took was a weird one, for the type of family I was raised in.

My mother often told me she was disappointed that I appeared to be some kind of flake, some kind of weird little creature who sat in dark corners reading books and seemed alien to what she said was a normal person’s idea of fun!

So what did my mother think was a normal person’s idea of fun?  Going out Friday and Saturday nights drinking themselves into a stupor with your friends, gorging on take aways and BBQs wherever possible and bothering the doctor about your strange back pain, without telling your doctor that you recently fell off a balcony with an 8ft drop because you were too drunk to realise what you were doing!  Oh but that’s not all, pick on the quietest person in your group and make them do things they’d never do without your cajoling and bullying – oh such fun!

Then on Sundays spend all day cleaning the house whilst worshipping God in the form of watching biblical movies in dead silence. 

If it wasn’t for books I would have successfully ran away by the age of fourteen, I knew at that age the only people who’d help me on the street were the bad kind and I was near enough prepared for it because I needed a way out.  I knew from past experiences of other women in my life that once you are in that kind of life, it is hard to get out of it, but I very nearly took that chance.  Thought that maybe I’d earn my way out, but you never do.  The big kick which knocked sense into me was that I had a cousin who had the same notion – only she had the guts to actually do it and came back home in tears, black and blue and with a new found drug addiction only a year older than me, she didn’t know, like I did back then, that it’s not only sex they get you into for money, but drugs too and in order to sell it, you have to take it yourself like a good sales person.

Fifteen years down the line, it killed my cousin. She was murdered when she was clean of drugs for nearly 2yrs as an effort to win her kids back from welfare and stumbled across her old dealer who was desperate for her to buy again! It could have been me, if I chose the same path.

Drugs was a big issue for me, because I saw the damage it did to several of our relatives growing up, drink and drugs are bad, very bad, it changes people heads, make them do stupid things and then they fall apart in tears because they genuinely didn’t meant to ram your head into the wall fifteen times, they were just stressed that’s all!  So I never wanted to experiment or be lead into it.  Several near misses though of people trying to sneak it into me, but I was paranoid around strangers and never accepted food or drink from anyone just in case!

No, after what happened to my cousin I decided to stay as the quiet one of the family, lock myself away in my room because if I didn’t, I’d usually end up the night’s entertainment!

They treated me like a circus freak, something to poke fun out of, to test, experiment with, to scare, to have a laugh with her, see what she’ll do next, like some kind of trained monkey or puppet.

Despite all of this, they still had the audacity to call themselves god fearing Christians!

If it weren’t for books, I wouldn’t have wanted to be a writer.  Because I thought movies were just movies, people playing pretend and they made something good together; it didn’t occur to me until I watched several Stephen King movies with my horror loving grandma that I kept seeing in the credits “written by Stephen King” over and over again in most of the movies I watched.  I knew when I went to markets and charity shops that Stephen King books were everywhere and I decided to collect and read them at the age of 9.

My grandma was very encouraging – another horror fan in the family made her feel less lonely.

I realised at the age of nine most books I liked were movies and that movies very rarely come from other places; I liked movies and I wanted to watch my ideas on the TV or at the cinema.  I wanted the world to visually see what I see in my head or at least adaptions of it.

Books are a love – but mostly I love movies, I am very stimulated by vision and art.  I learn better with visual cues for example – I have mild dyslexia and dyscalculia as well as ADD and Paul thinks ADHD.  If something visually pulls me, I lose concentration on other things because of the interest it holds.  This can be difficult at times because I can zone out on people if I find something visually attractive about the environment around us, fashion, hair, or even a beautiful person – now that one can be awkward!

So, I am really writing in the hope that my books make it to the movies and if they don’t then I have a plan B.  I will give my first book out to publication and if there is no interest from movie producers to make something of it, then I will have to bore myself to tears to learn technology where I can create my own movies online.  How?  I don’t know, but I hope it won’t come to that!

One major type of book that saved me from a life of sex crime etc. was non-fiction psychology.  From the age of 9 I taught myself how to pacify aggressive people without becoming too submissive or self-deprecating, how best to react in violent situations and how to talk to angry people.

Now it works to a certain extent on a vast majority of people and I have been commended in work for excellent customer service and hospitality skills, but there is a small margin where the advice can actually make some people more aggressive with you – my mother is one of those.

If I didn’t emotionally react to her behaviour with me, she’d get absolutely hysterical, come close into my face screaming and then slap me repeatedly about the head, because damn it, she is going to get the reaction she wants because she needs to feel her power over me!  Because she is insecure, that’s all, my fear and tears make her happy, because it verifies to her that she is strong and she is still alpha.

It wasn’t until my mastoid surgery when I was seventeen that she was positively shitting a brick about hitting me, because I have a vulnerable spot at the side of the head would could be lethal if bashed.  So she tried other tactics to hurt me in other ways, usually the legs.

In 2012 it was a book called “Toxic Parents” by Susan Forward that helped me finally tell someone outside of the family and family friend circle about my mother.  They responded in horror, they were a nursery worker for my son Henry.  They got me a nurse and a family support worker to come and speak with me and then the police came to give advice too.  Unfortunately their advice was, get her out of your life or it may affect your ability to care for your son appropriately, meaning that we could take court proceedings to put your son into care until we feel that you are safe!

Because my son did sustain a head injury earlier on that month due to my mother encouraging him to do dangerous things, such as deliberately climbing onto the dining room table to jump off it onto the floor, he was 14 months old and had only been walking seven weeks!

She didn’t want me to have children, you see, it wasn’t part of her plans.  She wanted me to stay home forever and become her nurse when she is old; she told me this over and over as I was growing up.  I accepted it, because it’s what daughters do, but mothers tend to want their daughters to thrive, be independent and happy in their own right too and usually good mothers want their daughters to expand their family, don’t they?

She didn’t.  She didn’t want what she called “more problems” that came in the form of new family members – she didn’t want me to go out alone and make friends, because she liked to micromanage my every waking moment.  It was hard for her to allow me to go into full-time work and she’d often sit in her car all day long outside my work place waiting to see what happens, if I leave early etc.

On some occasions I was ten minutes late in leaving the building because my boss required extra work, my mother would embarrass me by making a visit to the building demanding to know where her daughter is and how they can’t push me around into doing more than my times worth!

I often lost jobs because of her.

Because I knew how she liked to micromanage me and because I wanted to be a good daughter and keep my head down and please her the best I could, until I could convince her to allow me freedom and a family of my own – I decided to talk with her about me becoming self-employed with homework of some description, there was always an issue for her and that never worked.  Because she would become obnoxious when I was on the telephone (up until 2015 I had perfect hearing in the left ear), so keeping those jobs was a task too.

She revelled in telling people about how lazy I was, how she is stuck with a quiet reclusive freak of nature that is eating or starving herself to death periodically and has no enthusiasm for life whatsoever.  Not true, I had no enthusiasm for the life she wanted for me.

I had a lot of ambition until I gave up wanting.

When I was twenty seven I left her to move in with Paul, it was done sneakily but I had to do it that way.  By thirty I had to stop all contact with her, because she is a respected matriarch in the family that meant I had to say goodbye to everyone except for a small handful of relatives on my dad’s side of the family.

She would never know or appreciate that all I ever wanted in my life was for me to be considered a daughter that was good enough to stick around and help as much as I did.  Good enough to trust out alone, good enough to get chores done, good enough to deserve a good husband and family of her own and good enough and trustworthy enough to be humane enough to want to care for her mother if she ever needed it.  I didn’t need to be moulded and abused to do that, but she didn’t understand and I don’t think she really cares.

Because I messaged her in 2014, two years after not speaking to her and I said to her – I am willing to forgive and forget everything about the past, if she is willing to tell the truth to others about how my life was like and repair my reputation in the family and secondly I’d come back into her life if she could allow me to take full charge of my own life because after all I am a woman of thirty now with my own child – she said no, she won’t do that.

I said well just give me permission to live life how I want and I will work it out with the others myself.  No, she said, I won’t do that Tina, because I don’t agree you know what is best for you and as far as I am concerned, you don’t need that permission really, what are you playing at exactly?!

So I said to her – are you telling me then that I have got you wrong?  That you’ve always allowed me to make my own decisions and you never intended to interfere?  No she said – I never said that and you know what Tina, this is the end of the conversation.  I leave the ball in your court, come or go as you please, but I won’t change – I stand by the fact that you haven’t a clue about life and that you are a stupid, stupid girl and as far as I am concerned I wish you never have any more children, you made a stupid mistake when you decided to keep that one! (This was in reference to my Henry who was planned and is very much loved)!

I also wanted to point out, that the message came about because I wanted to tell my mother that I was hospitalised with an ectopic pregnancy and how my plans for a large family could be over and I was feeling suicidal over it – because all I wanted in life was to be a mother of a large brood.

Books have helped me heal from that too… books are magic aren’t they?

Thanks for reading! 

P.S my idea of fun is… picnics or eating out at buffets or country pubs with a large group of family or friends, rowing on a lake, visiting a zoo, playing with dogs, doing messy arts and crafts with kids and playing pretend with my creative and kooky friends, oh and swimming, I love swimming and gardening or being in a beautiful garden that isn’t overlooked! That’s the light side of me… there is a dark side too… What does that part of me like?

Once again friends or family around me, snuggling down with a horror movie – watching thunderstorms, creeping people out, telling a good story, having sex and generally being my weird self!

And guess what!  No drink and drugs for any of that is there? Well, erm, maybe the pub lunch eh?

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Adding a lot more sneak peeks

I have decided to add up all my current projects, finished and unfinished to this blog – or rather sneaks of the tropes and inspirations that caused them to exist as my works in progress.

I mentioned in a previous post that I have over seventy nine stories that are either finished or nearly finished, which I have been writing since I was ten years old, some are more recent ideas – fresher.

Every couple of days I will add a new project in action for you to peep at.

All of the current projects I will add are works that I want to actually publish some day!  I am not bothering with those that didn’t make the grade – sorry!

So the first one will be published on this blog tomorrow…

Remember, sneak peeks only!

Happy reading!

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I must become selfish, sorry

Life is drab and cruel at times, you have so many plans and they end up failing into nothing and it’s not your fault, it’s never your fault!  You try to rise above it, but you can only keep your head above water for so long, its tiring to fight the tides.  I know I have been there, I am still there now, it is a day to day slog for me, and it really is!

I have endless lists of plans that have deadlines and I am lucky to have accomplished three or four of those things, because my immune system gets another hit, or my migraines decided to come back or the family are having intense emotional breakdowns again and need to take up your time in order for you to comfort them – there is only so much you can do isn’t there?

I am fighting not just my own personal health and mental health issues, but that of my son and other relatives and along with that I am trying to cope with it all alone and along with the demands that complete strangers put on me.

Whilst trying to maintain some kind of professionalism in my life, so I don’t get completely absorbed in just surviving on every level that a human needs! 

It is selfish and I feel tremendous amount of guilt for it, but recently I have had very long words with Paul about all of this… about how everything is affecting my productivity and the lack of creative release is sending me around the twist – that I must, now become selfish, I must now make harsh demands and say – until my daily writing goal is done, to Hell with everything and everyone and shut myself away in a room that I will guard like the crown jewels!  Because, the work isn’t getting done and it isn’t entirely my fault! 

I have to do this, because I want this career and I can’t get it unless I become tougher and more selfish.  I can’t keep putting my own needs on the side-lines because I am terrified my family is falling apart, because it looks as though, from my standpoint that they are determined to fall apart whether I am there helping them or not and I can’t feel responsible for it anymore!  Because it is not my fault, they have chosen to be the way that they are!

I need just two hours of professional life daily, that is all, it is not asking for much – especially when there are full-time mothers out there that do a lot less for their kids than that!

I am only asking for two hours.

That is rarely got at the moment – this is why I am decluttering the big spare room this month, giving stuff away to charity and moving my computer out of the lounge with Alexa (for amazon music reasons) and putting it all up there – I am going to start closing the world out… for two hours a day, whether it is school holidays or not, they have to get used to it… and though I know it needs to be done… I still can’t help but feel like an evil bitch for doing it!

I care too much me thinks!

Happy reading

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I’m about to fall

Have you ever had a bad mental health day where you feel so down that when you walk around, you feel like you are about to pass out or that whenever you hear yet another bad thing turn up in your or your loved ones lives, you feel like you are about to drop where you stand?

I’ve been living in this kind of state for about a month now and it’s getting worse.

 I suppose if there has to be a positive note about it, at least I am not as suicidal as I was between 2013 and 2017, I suppose that is something.  But I can’t describe exactly why I feel on a constant state of near fainting, just because of mental stress…

This is one of the major reasons why, in spite of being physically ill, I have struggled to put words to paper for a while.

I have had two nervous breakdowns in the past, this is not like that, it feels different and the difference is scary!

It’s scary because it feels like I am so down in the dumps that my own heart is starting to pack up – because I have palpitations and my blood pressure is sky-rocketing even on Ramipril!

No I haven’t spoken to a doctor about it, because I don’t want therapy (of the mental kind), it makes things worse (experienced it, thank you).

The thing is, I have identified my problems, I have acknowledged what they are and worked out a method of overcoming them, but it is totally impractical right now, when I am too sick to do those necessary self-care essential things and what is more, I do not have the money to make one major difference possible.  You might say that money isn’t everything, but you know, for me, right now, it is a matter of if I have more money; I have a means to move out of one home and into another.

Now this is where the big Catch-22 comes into play!  You see, I know I need the money to do the major thing that will uplift me, but I am too sick and depressed to motivate myself to do it.  So until I decide at some point that I must suffer through the work in order to get some money, I won’t get through this!

I don’t have a support network that I can lean on and say… remove myself for a respite break from my current situation and get my thoughts together, then come back to it in a month or two – otherwise that would be exactly what I would seek out right now, someone who’d tolerate me for a month or two.

Because I don’t have that reprieve, I am more or less stuck, until my depression allows me to do the work I need to.

I am not using my depression as an excuse not to do the work, but if you knew how my depression is presenting itself right now, you would know that I am sleeping thirteen hours a day because I dread waking up each day, I wake up with the instant thought of “oh fuck it, I survived the night, how delightful” with the most sarcastic stance you can think of!

“Why, oh why, couldn’t I have drowned in my COPD mucus during the night?  What other kinds of shit experiences does the universe want me to experience today?”  Yes, I wake up with such enthusiasm.

Then I am made to feel guilty at 8:00am when my son bursts into the bedroom full of smiles and love for me and wishes me a great day, as he skips off to school!

Conflicted – much, I stay alive for him you know…

I think he knows it, he has planned as soon as he leaves school to become a father, so I must care for his grandchildren as a glorified unpaid babysitter for him.  Oh joy, no that’s not sarcasm, that is sincere, but then when can I feel that nobody needs me so I can just die?

That’s how I feel these days, I am literally plodding on like a zombie, one that is about to falter at any moment and it’s scary, but it is also exciting because… have I gone so far in my depression my body is finally going to give out?  Because, though I want things to get better for me, I feel hopeless, so in a big way, I am excited about death.

For those with a dark sense of humour you may find comedy in the fact that despite what I am saying here, I am drinking eight glasses of water a day, reducing sugar and fat wherever possible and has a mostly plant based non-vegetarian diet, meaning I do eat meat but it’s like 25% of my diet.  On good physical health days, which are not often, I do try and partake in high intensity interval training (HIIT) on my exercise bike and jogging or skipping on the spot five to ten times a day for 3 minutes a time.

To say I am not at war with myself would be laughable.

But that’s how it goes.

Thank you for reading!

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New system

All year I had been planning to do NaNoWriMo, the one for July, but that was cancelled due to the loss of my computer desk and sickness, then the one happening tomorrow – but I have changed my mind.

I remember that on two occasions I have participated in NaNoWriMo only to burn out by the twentieth because I felt I wasn’t as good as other writers who had already proclaimed that they have finished their novels and were now in the editing process.  By the way – don’t be perturbed by this, as I eventually learned that a majority of writers, who do this, have had words in progress long before NaNoWriMo even started!

I have a handful of writer friends online who started two weeks ago on their projects and one of them even started in the second week of September!

I find writing hard these days because I am not alone anymore when writing; I have no personal private, quiet space.  I have to write around my family and their noises and demands in very cramped conditions!  My work, both art and writing is spread in many parts of the house, because we lack space and there isn’t much cooperation in helping me get a larger space to put everything into, just so I can work like how I used to.

I am also doing all of this with very bad health, bed bound for at least four or five months of the year, so I don’t even have the comfort of my desk at times!

I used to write thousands of words per day, for my stories, poems, songs and a huge amount of online articles that were published daily on various websites!  There were times that Paul remembered me doing 12k in total in an entire day, he used to laugh and call me his future wife Barbara Cartland!

Regardless of my health, I could still produce that amount of work per day, if I did not constantly have to move around the house getting notes and using things in different locations all the while, whilst fighting to get to the places through mess and dodging fidgeters who are constantly on the move around the house! 

I have copious notes for each project and used to have postcard snippets to help too, but I have no table space to see them all at once, so I have to try and look at things by hand and put them back into places all the time so they are not lost!  This is difficult for another reason too, because I have a badly deformed underperforming left hand!  It is amazing that I am able to type 60 to 80wpm with that disability!

Before I lived in these conditions, I had half an entire room, the size of 10ft by 15ft and an L shaped desk that took up two whole walls.  I could use my swivel chair to slide from side to side and have up to twenty sheets of paper out or one hundred postcards, to constantly view whilst working, as well as having two large corkboards on the wall around me!  With this, I had total privacy and control over all stimuli that surrounded me!

I could still have that here in this house, but there are two rooms that are unused purely because we have a leaking roof and rising damp in them so it is not comfortable nor safe for electrics and paper!

We simply can’t move there is no option but to stay here because the cost of the house in such conditions would mean we would need to move thirty miles or more away from this village and Paul’s family and entirely out of our county, in order to buy a property of a similar size!  Henry has a three hundred year ancestry in this village, he is not eager to break it.

The roof will cost 5k to fix approximately, once it is fixed, I will gain two rooms and one of those rooms could have a C shaped desk set up that is even bigger than my previous set up.  So eventually, I will have what I need again and more.

Instead of doing NaNoWriMo this year, I plan to write differently.  A new way, in my tight noisy space, that will help me get less noise and more words done in a day, rather than sparse times in a month. 

My new plans are to write for ninety minutes before Henry comes home from school and ninety minutes on my laptop in bed when everybody is asleep.

By doing this, I will be producing an average of three to seven thousand words per day as an average, because my average fifteen minute timer says when I have planned words I can produce up to eight hundred words and on a bad day that is unplanned five hundred words. 

At the moment I am able to squeeze in twenty minutes around three times a week without hand notes, in between family quiet time or when Henry is in the bath or whatever.

Given the right environment I was very productive and proactive and very addicted to my work and was never tired nor burned out by it!

Happy reading!

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new working areas

Writing has been difficult in the past few weeks, due to the annoying fact that my arms are losing strength when typing and the computer desk has been too high for me to type for longer than 10 minutes at a time, without going numb.

I have become almost unbearable to live with because of my temper in regards to not being able to type or even play many online games as my arms won’t let me. 

Paul has helped massively, he has an adjustable table for me now for my laptop and that has meant I can do more things again.  But, typing on my laptop is laggy and frustrating and I make many mistakes, not to mention the lighting on the screen is very sharp.  So, once again Paul decided to take measurements for me and has moved furniture around the living room and bedroom for me.

The new areas for writing are a corner in the bedroom and living room.  Bedroom because I have insomnia and often want to write at night, but also because I get very tired during the day sometimes and often find myself upstairs.  We are planning to maybe make a change again next year; to make the spare bedroom into an upstairs living room for winter, because downstairs is far too cold! 

The corner of the living room will have an L shaped desk at the end of my art table by the end of the week, because I have become a grumpy living nightmare since I can’t work as much as I want to creatively.

Paul is doing all of this for me, unfortunately it has meant that my rabbit has been moved to live in the hallway now, because we don’t have the room anymore in the lounge. 

I will be learning on skill share soon to set up a YouTube channel and editing videos, so I will become a vlogger as well as a blogger in the near future.  I cannot commit to more than once a fortnight for a video just yet though.

I do intend, once the desk I set up properly, to do NaNoWriMo this year, because there are four books nagging me like mad lately in my head.  I am also doing inktober and I will be posting my art daily all of the month of October, with any luck!

Doctors are taking all of my symptoms as a matter of urgency and I have to admit, I am scared.  Normally, I am told that there is a two year waiting list for neurology in this area, but the doctors are pushing for me to be seen within 16 weeks.

I am told what they suspect might not be good.  So there is a lot of stress in my life right now and a lot of limitations as I am literally struggling to do everything! 

Because I am a determined and stubborn person, this lack of being able to do anything, has made me very snappy and I have been losing my will to think positively or even plan for a future to be honest.  Despite what I have said about my creative plans, I somehow feel I am just setting myself up for failure, simply because I don’t have the energy to be as consistent as I would like.  I am also scared that if I become successful in my ventures in the future, that I won’t be able to keep up with the demands of the work or the demands of my agents.  Because I am rarely able to keep up with the demands of going to the doctor surgery because I can’t wake up, or my mucus production is so strenuous on a day, that no taxi will take me to the surgery on the account of me choking and coughing so much as they think I have covid – when I don’t!

So, this is the update of what’s going on here with me and what I hope to plan to do in the future.  Let’s just hope I can actually get to do these things and let’s hope that the doctor hasn’t any real reason to worry, shall we?

 Also, my mental health has had a huge bashing over this; I am literally bawling my eyes out at the slightest thing and becoming a complete emotional train wreck!

Anyway – happy reading and I hope to write again next week at some point.

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Writers debt and credits

I have recently rekindled my love for writing, like I used to a few years back – I was losing it to be honest but now I think I have my mojo back!  I lost my love for writing back in 2017 after I burned myself out doing 50k towards NaNoWriMo by the 21st of November and ignored all other writing projects and art projects as I did so!

I read in a book somewhere a couple of weeks ago – forgot which one, it may have been a YouTube video now I come to think about it, that when you are a creator and you force yourself to work on one large project for a prolonged period of time, it can burn you out and make you resent creating in the future – I think that happened to me.  The way to ensure that never happens is to work harder for shorter periods of time or have more than one project on the go, or at least some other creative outlet such as painting or woodworking or even music.

During NaNoWriMo of 2017 I ignored everything else but that one main novel for the entire duration – the novel was a novel I had been ten years in planning!  After NaNoWriMo had finished, I hated the book and have never revised it since.

I didn’t draw, paint, write poetry, write anything new towards my blog other than WIP progresses and I didn’t practise any music, language learning or read any new books – just so I could focus on that one novel that I began to hate by November 17th.

To be honest, I have noticed this is a theme for a lot of writers who do that – they never want to write again sometimes after doing this and others can’t bring themselves to write that particular novel ever again or revise it – I am one of those.  But I am trying to get back into revising that novel, because it was a great idea and I loved it before that challenge and I really would love to have this published.  But I do feel that it will be hard in the first few days to revise.  I am planning to revise that book by the end of May.

I have a writing goal of 3k words per day, whether those words are towards a novel, towards the blog, towards an art journal or a poem – I don’t mind, I am just not committing myself to one project ever again like that.  I simply can’t!  I had to stop myself from doing it again the other day based on a suggestion an online friend gave me, but I just can’t do that again.

I am happily working on three novels at once, skipping between works whenever I feel myself getting lethargic on one, just so I get the word count I want by the end of the day.  Today for example, I am near the 4k words mark, seven times I have skipped between writing posts for my blog to schedule for later on in the week in between concentrating on just one of my vampire novels.  It is working so far.

I am also starting something new to spur me on to keeping to my own word count deadlines and that is doing something I call “Writers debt” and “writers credits”.  I make myself write 3k words per day, if I only did 2800 words today, then tomorrow I will have a writers debt and must aim for 3200 words before I finish tomorrow.  However, if tomorrow I write 4200 words, I am in credit by 1000 words the next day, so I don’t have to work as hard because I will only need to pump out 2000 words that day.

I feel it helps because it makes me accountable for my writing and it gets me used to potential publisher deadlines in the future!

Yesterday I was 965 words short of my daily goal, so today my goal has been 3965 words!  I am over that now and I will be in credit of approximately 300 words tomorrow!

Try it, it works great!

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