Undone

I am enjoying my new position at my job. Quite a bit, actually.

So that’s good.

I am feeling strangely unfulfilled. I feel like my brain is just lagging a bit behind, I’m trying (Desperately) to create. I want to be ingenious. I want to be amazing. I want to be fantastic. All I can do is try my best. I can’t be angry for giving it my best, right?

Geek and Sundry has a new writing segment. I might watch it and try to participate. Maybe that will help.

Derringer Meryl [Amazing skills] Out

I haven’t posted here in a while for SEVERAL reasons:

1) Doctor Who Obsession. which largely is now on tumblr because I know family and friends are sick of it. So i relegate that to annoying other fangirls/boys … It’s better that way.

2) Work. Work has been overwhelming me a bit. I am pretty much in a “go to work, come home, eat, get Katie’s homework done, do one thing that MUST be done, and go to bed, start over.” cycle and its a  bit… draining on me. Even when Scott and I put a huge effort into ONE room being cleaned, the girls come through at rampage speed and undo it. I’m just tired of it.

3)Nanowrimo: I’m nto ashamed of this one as much honestly, because I achieved it. Nanowrimo is 30 days to write a novel, or (alternatively) 50,000 words. The average Scifi book is 100k. So you probably won’t see much of me on here (again) as of January, because I”m giving myself 31 days to replicate it again. I’m going to hop back in and write the second half of my novel. I also will mix this in with some reading.  So I may not reach my goal this time, but I figured it’s worth investing some time in myself and my skills and talents.

Because of this investment I have had some problems iwth my hands lately. I also havent’ been feeling so great (low vitamin D, not consistently taking my Zoloft) so I’m going to work on this. and I’m going to work on my book.

I may never be a famous author, but I will improve and work towards being published (even just on Kindle) because I love writing, and I want someone to love what I’ve wrote. I’m being very careful to write for the story, not the audience. I hope it all works out.

Derringer Meryl [Poppin’ Tags] Out

First and foremost is that I have to interact with people, obviously not everyone in the world likes what I like, and honestly that’s the mother flippin’ spice of life. Right? Everyone can’t be the same, that’d be DULL and bothersome.

What was I saying… Oh Yes I have to interact with people and they are often DONE with me and my blathering on about things far before I am.  Which is unfortunate. I am not just obsessive about TV shows, when I was a teenager I obsessed about boys … and not in general, i would latch on to a boy and turn my hooks in until he couldn’t stand me, and then I would become OBSESSED (usually lasting months) about WTF went wrong. Someone finally got the balls to tell me it was me, and I was able to work some stuff out in my brain. I learned to hold back.

When I find something that I think is BRILLIANT for me personally I tend to gush. With boys I could hold back after a while because I learned I was damaging my relationships by obsessing. But when it comes to things I”m trying to absorb and work out, I need to rake over it like 40 million times, In my head in a day. What was that thing in the background, did I see something in the mirror? What did those symbols mean? That kind of thing. But also lesser things. Little things about why I love specific characters so much. Why did the writing there make me cry, why do I love the characters so much? I like knowing little facts and passing them on. They make me feel smarter.

{As an aside I have a “I am dumb” complex from growing up with four older brothers, some of which were very insistent on how stupid I was. Because I was a girl, because I was young. THe thing is, I”m still fairly young (I’m no spring chicken, but Most people on the east coast my age don’t even have kids, they’re partying So… whatever) and I have always carried this “I can’t do that” feeling with me. So 5 seconds of reciting some smart fact about a tv show provides cheap and needed thrills}

I finished series 4 of the reboot of doctor who, and cried. I’m sure we’ll never see Rose again. I know things have changed on the show now, and I”m just not sure how to feel about it. David Tennant’s 10th Doctor was angst incorporeal form, I need that sometimes. it was angst with a sugar coating of humor. It gave you the feeling that you could be that Shop girl and be rescued/taken away like Rose Tyler, or a Temp at an Agency working day to day 9-5, no one ever telling you that you were pretty or smart, just doing what it took to get by. And someone could step into your life and it wasn’t so much that the Doctor tells them they’re brilliant, or wonderful, or amazing, he’s just holding a mirror up and showing them how wonderful, brilliant, amazing, fantastic (etc) they can be, and letting them be that way.

I feel like I need to find that outlet. Not in a person. I don’t need a person to validate me, I need to validate me. I need to look into the mirror and see how lovely, amazing, worthwhile, incredible, strong, beautiful and sweet I am. I still have a problem with mirrors, after all these years (for those who dont’ know, I have been terrified of mirrors since I was 5 thanks to someone telling me a super awesome ghost story!) and I think it transitioned at some point from scared to look because of the monster/ghosts/whatever might be there, to just being terrified of me.

I started a story I’ll probably never finish, and in it the character stares at herself in the mirror, and the thoughts in her head, they build until the person that she sees is ugly, and reprehensible. She cannot bear to look any more and so she shatters the mirror, and slices her hands up in the process. It’s a magnifying glass on how I feel.

It’s massively unhealthy, the way I am right now. I don’t lack the capability of being healthy. I simply need to put more positivity into my life. I need to infuse myself with less angst. Sure, angst is great for teenagers, and television characters; but I wallow, because of my obsessiveness. I drown myself in it. I roll around in the sadness and the misery until I can find my way back to where i”m happy again. It can take months, It has taken me years this time. Over three. I may never find the answer as to why I am sad. I may never be able to see clearly what’s going on, even in my head. But I need to learn to rise above it, and grasp for something better.  I think I’m going to try publishing something I write, even just a little drabble… On here once a week. I want to get back to where I was. I don’t want to laugh at high school me who wanted to write. I can never succeed if I never try. I may never be famous, or celebrated, but I can be happy. I can be happy.

Derringer Meryl [Just try] Out

In case you didn’t catch on, I’m stuck on Doctor Who.

The thing is, when you have a universe… or is it an universe, that sounds odd… whatever. When you have a universe with so few rules, it opens your mind up. I feel like I’m getting inspired, and I’m not inspired to write fanfiction, it’s more of a “what if there was a universe where this could happen?” or “maybe a person could travel like this?” and I feel like the stories are small now, But I feel like I could make it more.
It gives me hope. I think that’s part of my depression. It’s my realism fighting against me dreaming. I would love to write, a book, a story, a universe, a movie, anything, that could capture the world’s attention. I’d love to write something. I’ll have to start writing all of these things down.

Derringer Meryl [Who?] Out

I stopped calling.

It hurt to hear your voice, but to not really hear you speak. That you never returned your calls. I keep placing all my money on you to go against the odds, but I guess I should learn, the odds are never in my favor. It’s not a fifty/fifty chance when you’re guaranteed to lose every time.  Things rile and surge inside me. Another crack in a facade. it’s ok.

I finally made a decision.

 
The whole “it’s not you it’s me” bs that people pass around. Some of it must be true. I know it’s me. I suppose it always has been. Now it’s highlighted. Glaring at me. Obvious and exposed. It’s harder to ignore then. The small irritating niggling things about people you don’t see until someone points them out. I see them all in me. Polished and shining. Blinding. Until you can see nothing else, the image burned into your eyes. Like an old broken monitor, an old outdated image burned into it’s screen.

Don’t worry.

I thought things were good. They played at being well. I was just a place holder and you were my chance to pretend things were different. You moved on, happier now, and I remain. How it always seems to be. That I remain. People walk on, move on, excel, fail. I’m still here. Right where I’ll always be. Stagnating. Which sounds filthy, to be frank. Like a dirty word your mother washed your mouth out for. I miss your mother. She was kind, and warm. Feels like a place that is cold and slate grey in my memory now. The place where you were.

I’ll be better.

I stay home now. I play at being normal. Still. Healthy even. Drowning and bobbing in the flood of my days. Too much to do, but no will to do it. In an effort to stop hurting myself. I stopped calling. I don’t think about the fun things we used to do. I just get by. I want to miss you less, so I think of you less. I reach out to you less. stay inside my head more.

It’ll be better this way.