Thirty-Third

Yet another stream of consciousness post. I haven't posted on my blog for a long time, mostly because I have lacked inspiration. That isn't the only reason, however. As I build my writing portfolio, I know I will be making the move to Wordpress as soon as I put aside enough money to pay the web designer. It will be soon, as the designer that I have chosen only charges around $150 for a Wordpress site. I am excited. My current position as senior contractor for an e-startup is going along swimmingly, however, I know that eventually the work they have for me will dry up. I need to be on the lookout for other positions if I am to continue to provide for my family.

I had a thought today. As I lay in bed in my husband's arms this morning, I began to ponder the most recent episode of Reign. I thought of Catherine, and how she raged at Diane de Poitiers after she discovered the true nature of her twins' death so many years before. I thought of Catherine, and I wondered how she filled her days. Surely her scheming didn't fill every hour of the day. Did Catherine enjoy reading? It should be noted that I'm talking about the character of Catherine, not the historical figure. Did she, like the characters in Downton Abbey, spend hours staring out the window, thinking about their day and what they needed to accomplish in the days to come?

I pondered that perhaps that is where the wisdom of days gone by came from. Before the Age of Distractions, before Facebook and smartphones and hundreds of channels on TV, people had more time to think. They would spend their time pondering their decisions, their choices, their opportunities, and in many cases it was only after hours of meditation on the subject that they came to any solid decision. Time was measured differently back then. Today, we fill our days with so much distraction, we hardly get anything done. But back then, they had fewer, different distractions, and so they accomplished much.

I would like to unplug. However, my internet addiction and my situation in which I am surrounded by family who desires my attention keep me from having a moment's peace to think. Even if I packed up my computer, or put a lock on it to keep me from using it all hours of the day, I would not be able to think as well as I would like.

Perhaps when we are finally situated in our apartment in California, with the boxes unpacked and everything in order, we will finally be able to come to some sort of agreement in which I am allowed my musings with minimal distractions.

Perhaps.

Thirty-Second

This is yet another stream of consciousness post. It has been several weeks since my last post but I have felt either too tired, too busy, or too distracted to come up with a topic. I have chronic fatigue as a symptom of my fibromyalgia and multiple sclerosis and I can’t seem to shake it. I have to start going to the gym. I know it will make me tired, but if I’m healthier, I hope my illnesses will go into remission. I am just so sick. And I hate it. I can’t be the wife James’ deserves, the mother Momo deserves, the human my cats deserve while I feel this way. In other news, I got married. I am so very happy. I wish I could say that I had a beautiful wedding, and I did have a beautiful marriage ceremony, but money is a factor and so we opted for a courthouse wedding.

I am so bored and so tired. I want to nap, but I know I have to stay awake. I wish I didn’t though. Maybe just a short nap.

I have started going to church. The LDS church. I don’t really believe in it, but I want to. I believe in a lot more of the witchcraft path than anything else. But mostly, I am an atheist. As much as I want to believe in Deity, I just can’t ignore scientific facts that seem to support the theory that there is no intelligent design. I fully believe in evolution. I suppose I could subscribe to the theory that I used to hold. That in the beginning of eternity, there was the Masculine and the Feminine. The joining of these two forces created the universes, and the repetitions of time immemorial. These masculine and feminine principles manifest in God and the Goddess and the “different” deities worshipped throughout time were mere facets of those two principles. They wrote the universe in physics and math and science so science does not prove that they don’t exist, it merely explains the way the universe is.

I just don’t know. I want to know. I want to believe in something. Because I surely don’t believe in myself.

Thirty-First - Stream of Consciousness

This is a stream of consciousness post. I am trying to write because I am on a self-appointed deadline and I want to finish my books early so I can perhaps publish them early but I don't know if it's possible. With my fiance moving in, my daughter moving back in with me, I will be heavily distracted. If James gets a job during the hours that my daughter is at school, I will perhaps have six hours to myself to create but will that be enough? I am a skilled enough typist but the problem is arisen where my mind is not as quick, not as sharp as it used to be and I wonder if I have enough brainpower to manifest a story, the poetry, the short stories, as quickly as I created the first three chapters of my novel. I am doing my best, but I am succumbing to doubt. Am I an author? Will my product be good enough? Will people buy it? What is my motivation for writing? I've wanted to be an author ever since I was little. I thrived when it was writing time. I feel blessed that I was enrolled in schools that encouraged creativity, imagination, and innovation. I hope I can achieve my dreams. I cannot imagine the joy I will feel as I publish my books. I will officially be an author when that happens. No one will be able to tell me different. I will be create my own destiny. I only wonder if I have the strength. 

Post-traumatic stress disorder and mental conditioning thrust upon me by other parties, namely my family, have crippled me. Am I intelligent? Everyone says so. Even my detractors have always told me I'm smart. It's funny how some people claim I'm manipulative and successful at getting people to do what I want, but I am also stupid. That makes no sense. It takes some sort of cunning to manipulate people, and while I know I possess some small part of it, I have no desire to manipulate people. I want people to want me - my company, my body, my friendship. If I have to manipulate them into giving that desire to me, I no longer have value for the relationship. It's really very simple. I just need to get all these racing thoughts out of my head. 

I despise bipolar disorder. I take my medications faithfully and I do my best to surround myself with peace and calm, but sometimes the manic episodes sneak in and I can't shut up my mind. I wish my novel flowed as easily as this post is flowing. But I am so self conscious about how the end product will be received that I second guess every word I write. What am I to do? I suppose I could turn to my Ativan, but I really don't want to abuse it. I just need something stronger. It is when I am like this that I fear my future. Notice how I went from declaring my destiny as my own to create to fearing my destiny as if it's out of my control. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. 

Thirtieth

It is a very curious thing to be conscious of one’s own bliss.

Time slows down and I’m aware solely of the soul-flight of rapturous delight that elevates me into hyper-awareness. Perhaps it is the stark contrast of the sheer radiance of happiness with the persistent darkness within my life that allows me to recall it so vividly. Compared to the dysphoric mania that I experience as a result of my bipolar disorder, those particular blissful moments are unadulterated euphoria.

Some people with bipolar disorder experience euphoric “highs” when they are manic. Every second is a high-energy rush and they feel they are invincible. They often engage in high-risk activities when experiencing their brand of mania – sexual promiscuity, reckless driving, gambling, etc. On the other hand, I experience dysphoric mania which is characterized by the same high levels of energy, but that energy manifests as anxiety, racing thoughts, and despair. It is physically painful to endure. My heart races, my mind won’t shut up, and I want to die.

Nine times out of ten, my bliss washes upon me because of one of three things.

The people in my life – my daughter, my lover, my friends
Reading – losing myself in a different world, a different reality
Writing – my blog, my novel, my poetry
 

Those three things are my lifelines. My escapes from a world that is usually so much darker than I perceive I can handle. At least, in my shadowed moments, I feel I cannot endure. But I always do. I am always risen again. Like a phoenix, like the Christ, like the flowers that bloom with the dawn, I always rise.

Twenty-Ninth

Hello! It's time again for Velvet Verbosity's 100 word story prompt of the week! This week, my story is titled Sarah.

Be kind.

Sarah knelt in the mud, but didn’t feel the puddle seep into her uniform. She was focused. “There, see the tracks? It looks like something was dragged into that tunnel.” She gestured with her gun at the maintenance tunnel off the boardwalk in the park. She rose. 

She led her team of investigators to the humble, grey chasm. With her flashlight in one hand and her gun in the other, she approached. Her light fell upon the black spaces between ligaments. Whatever was left of Molly Stevens, it wasn’t enough to make a positive identification.  Another find for Sarah Cooper.

Twenty-Eighth

In the movie “The Frog Prince” from Cannon Movie Tales, the Frog places Princess Zora in front of the mirror and says, “If you look long enough, you’ll see how other people see you.” Like Zora, I have received conflicting messages from those around me for my entire life. I’ve been told I’m kind, sweet, beautiful on the inside and out by most of my peers. My family has said the same things to me, although most of the time they turn around and tell me the opposite whenever they are annoyed with me. Men have had no trouble using my body to receive pleasure although I assume they never quite found me attractive enough to want to commit.

While I have the most trouble with my body, my perception of my personality is also distorted. My bipolar disorder and my borderline personality disorder have resulted in some pretty unsavory traits. I am a bona fide attention whore, and I will go to any lengths to get it when I feel like I am not getting enough from those around me.  I am also a liar. Ironically, I rarely lie on the internet. I instead use the safety of the internet’s anonymity to reveal the distasteful truths about myself and my philosophies. However, in the “real world,” I lie so easily that I often don’t realize I was dishonest until I reflect back upon my encounters throughout the day.  I adopt new personalities so easily, I imagine that is where my identity crisis stems from. I don’t know who I am or what I believe.  Like Marina and the Diamonds says, “I’ve lived a lot of different lives,been different people many times….Got different people inside my head. I wonderwhich one that they like best?”

It is so refreshing for me to meet people with a secure understanding of who they are and where they are going. I crave those interactions with people that help me see what I desperately desire. A sense of identity. To know that it is possible for me to become Heather, to be the best person I can be without having to shift personalities so often.

Maybe, like Zora, I will someday believe that I am ravishing, scrumptious, and exquisite.

Twenty-Seventh

I am going to complete my mid-year review here. I am taking part in a wonderful year-long workshop called Manifest. I introduced you to it here at the end of 2013. It has been an inspiration to me throughout 2014 thus far, and I have been more productive and more intuitive than I have ever been. I credit Jessica and the wonderful women I’ve met in the workshop for at least a hefty percentage of my new productivity.

Let us begin.

1.    In the beginning of 2014, I said I wanted to amplify and create time for my writing. At the beginning of the year, I began my novel in earnest. It is now 5 chapters long and I will be finished by the end of the year, if all goes well. I also have ideas for two poetry books. I have started the first: a book of poetry with no set theme or meter. The second book will be erotic poetry. I hope to finish all three by the end of the year, but realistically only one project will be completed.

2.    At the beginning of 2014, I made some goals. The first was to finish my book. Still working on that one. The second was to become more spiritual. I have become more spiritual but it is in a way that will alienate me from nearly everyone from everywhere on the spiritual spectrum, so I will keep it secret, personal, and sacred. For now, anyway.

3.    My word of the year was Divinity. I separated from it and became a hardcore atheist for a few months, but I think it was necessary to shed me of all the preconceptions I had as a pagan and Goddess worshiper. I have a better idea of who I am, what I DO believe, and what virtues I want to manifest in my life now because of my foray into skepticism.

4.    I am still living my mission statement. I need to write a new one that demonstrates the values in my vision board I created recently.

5.    I separated from my crystal and animal guides for most of the year for the reasons in #3. I feel drawn to reconnect with Ametrine and Brown Bear once again.

6.    I wanted to bring peace and love and spirituality into my life. I feel I have accomplished this, although I know it will be a lifelong pursuit. As a bipolar borderline personality, I struggle to feel such emotions and sensations just as a matter of fact. But I have endeavored to know myself and to know others and to see the soul of every person who crosses my path.

7.    Maya Angelou defined success as:  “Success is liking yourself, liking what you do, and liking how you do it.” I think she said it best. I think I am enormously successful if you take into account where I’ve been in my life, where I’m going, and where I’m at.

8.    I am a writer.

I have 400 followers on Twitter and growing by 50 followers a day.

My career has taken off in ways I never anticipated.

I have friends, real friends.

9.    Heather, I love you. Eternally You, Heather.

10.  I need to stay focused on writing. I need to examine my resolve and create as much of a routine as a right-brained creative can have and stick to it. I need to take responsibility for my actions and make sure I’m reaping the benefits of my decisions rather than suffering the consequences.

My Vision board:

Twenty-Sixth

Today, I bring you my submission for Velvet Verbosity's 100 word prompt for the week. The theme of the week was Faded. 

My stories tend to lean toward the darker side. Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.

Suzanna

She took another sip of her whiskey, but decided to down the entire contents of the glass instead. She sighed as the burning sensation slipped down her throat into her belly. She turned away from the bar, slipping a $20 note to the bartender.

As she entered the bathroom, she stumbled, colliding with the automatic towel dispenser. “Fucking shit,” she muttered. She entered the handicap stall at the end of the row. As she lit up the lighter and placed it under the spoon, she sighed. When the syringe pricked her skin, she wondered when her life became so faded. 

Twenty-Fifth

Who amongst us shies away from risk? Is it cowardice or reasonableness that keeps those who keep themselves on the logical path?

Why do we take risks?

Financial gambles come in the form of investments. Should we buy that house? Should we sell our stock now or wait? In a world of buy, buy, buy, sell, sell, sell, it can be dizzying to consider our financial risks from a logical point of view. The financial landscape in the Western world is always changing. What might have seen a good purchase in the height of the housing bubble before the recession is now an underwater mortgage ruining the investment prospects of a young 30-something professional.

Even in college we take risks. Should we declare our major as freshmen and lock ourselves into that educational pursuit for the next 4-8 years? Or do we busy ourselves in the haze of prerequisites and hope inspiration for our futures comes in the form of English 101?

Nowhere else in our lives do we take the most risks and make the most dangerous bets than in love. Finding The One™ is, for many if not most of us, the primary goal of our lifetimes. To find a mate to connect with, present a united front with the one person in the world who knows you against society and all expectations the rest of us ask of you. That’s what we want, and it’s human and good to want it. Perhaps that is why we are willing to sacrifice every temporary happiness in an effort to not only find, but secure our partner for life.

As for myself, I will always choose risk. That has been my admittedly misguided M.O. for my entire life. I won’t stop now.

**Lyrics from "I See Fire" by Ed Sheeran

Twenty-Fourth

As I've been lacking in inspiration for both my novel and my blog (and I sincerely apologize for that, you guys, you know I do) I have decided that on days I cannot come up with a topic or theme I will complete a short story prompt for you to enjoy.

I found a weekly 100 word challenge at Velvet Verbosity. Every week, she chooses a theme and challenges writers to write a 100 word story for it. This week's theme was Whistling.

Here is my story. Title: Danny

Danny crossed the street at the intersection of Orion and Pine.  The sky was vividly blue, rare for Seattle. He smiled up at the azure canopy and began to whistle as he drew closer to home. The melody had been with him for weeks, haunting his dreams. 

He was lost in the tune and he didn’t see the car coming. Danny stepped into the street, whistling clearly. When his legs broke, so did his song. His skull shattered the windshield and his blood coagulated there as he rolled off the hood.  He could still hear the melody as he died.