I Wrote Today…Be Thrilled

2015-05-19 Miss Poison E-books, Editing, Editors, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Plagiarism, Poison In Lethal Doses, Things That Enrage Me, Work, Writer, Writers, Writing Beware, Books, Editing, Fibromyalgia Pain, Honesty, Identity Theft, Pieces Of Me, Plagiarism, Poison In Lethal Doses, Self-Publishing, Theft, Writers, Writing

I am in excruciating pain. From the top of my spine to the top of my thighs, I cannot stand the torturous pain that only seems to get worse with every passing minute. After a point, you really have to ask yourself an important question: Do I take ANOTHER pill or do I pray this will stop at some point? It’s been quite some time since I’ve wanted a morphine drip, but right now, it sounds good.

While this pain attacks my being relentlessly, cutting off my early (for me) bed time by waking me up, I actually sat here for over an hour pouring over what shall forever be dubbed as “the manuscript from hell”. At this point, I can honestly say I am forcing myself to work and get it done. I am NOT enjoying myself in any way, shape, or form. I keep thinking about all the Biotin I will have to take to replace the hair this manuscript is costing me. God help me if my work ever tortures another individual so much! 😦

On a more serious note, a fellow writer had her first book hacked by someone claiming to be an editor in India. After three months of “editing”, he hacked into her Amazon account, tried to pass the book off as done, and then stole her credit card information and, to my understanding, maxed out her card. He damaged her files to the point where she has just lost a year of hard work, work she cherished beyond measure. So now, she’s lost a book she was proud of AND she has to file all kinds of reports to avoid identity theft, and get her credit card charged back and replaced. This is nightmarish, and I don’t want it to happen to anyone ever again.

I want everyone that is a writer to be VERY careful when hiring an editor. I highly recommend sticking to your country of origin and asking for a contract and non-disclosure agreement. That is my standard method of dealing with all of my clients and while some of them may drive me insane at times, I have never, not once in 20 years, released their names or discussed what their work was about. It’s okay to say your job is driving you nuts, but as an editor it’s crucial to my reputation to protect my clients’ work.

At the end of each day, I don’t OWN their manuscripts. I can ask to receive credit as the editor for those that self-publish, but three months after a job has been completed, I release my hold on any and all files. I keep them for that short time period on the off-chance they will need me to fix something or need a backup copy, but after that, I delete the work. I have no rights to it whatsoever, and each contract states that.

If you’re writing a book, back up your files to something external. A thumb drive, a microSD card, an external hard drive, etc., and put a hard copy on a CD or DVD, and put it in a safe place. If you can put it in a safe, I highly recommend that as an option. Don’t EVER allow someone to access your work remotely. Do not give passwords out! Shield everything you put your name on and protect it with your life. There are seriously evil people in this world that are, without question, predators to some extent. Do not allow yourself to become a victim of anyone professing to be something that are, quite clearly, not.

There are plenty of legitimate freelancers and there are even more that are simply liars. Aim high when searching for someone legitimate to assist you with something so important. If you have any questions, I am happy to assist where I can.

Freedom From Pain Will Give Us Wings

Image 2015-05-12 Miss Poison Fibromyalgia, Fibromyalgia Awareness, Honesty, Pieces Of Me Fibromyalgia Awareness, Fibromyalgia Pain, May 12th

I was diagnosed in 2004. However, I’ve had symptoms of Fibromyalgia since I was around 8 or 9. My pain has progressively worsened from one year to the next.

It Doesn’t Get Easier

2015-05-052015-05-05 Miss Poison Cats, Children, Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Kittens, Life, Musings, Pain, Pets, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, Migraines, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Suffering, Writing

Fibromyalgia Pain. Chronic Pain. Migraines. They are just a few of the evils that millions suffer from. Some suffer loudly, but many more suffer in dark rooms, alone, in silence. You’re screaming on the inside, but you don’t make a sound.

There is something about the temperature shifting drastically that changes my “Pain Game” to new levels of insanity. I’ve had a migraine on and off for three days, and after last week, I’d hoped it was just a passing tornado, so to speak. This morning I reached that “insane from pain” stage that is quite scary. You hear yourself saying crazy things, but you truly cannot stop your mouth from moving. You’ve been strong for too long and now you’re venting.

I’m usually up pretty early and by early, I mean still dark. Suffering from migraines last week into this week has meant that I’m finding justified reasons to A) Go back to sleep or B) Take naps. This morning I woke up at 7:24. I’d been up an hour before and truly saw no reason to make a bigger effort, so back to bed I went. Unfortunately, when you have animals and/or young children, you don’t get “the morning off”. I suspect if I bled out of my eyeballs, maybe. The girls were being particularly aggressive this morning, so I fed them at exactly 7:25 and then stomped back up the stairs like an insane person. Once they’re fed, they usually leave me alone. In true form, they had no interest in bothering me whatsoever once they’d been fed. But once I officially woke up, I had a little stalker doing all sorts of wrong to draw my attention. I’ve reached that pain point where saying “No.” or “Get down from there!” isn’t even worth it. If I spritz them with water, they stop doing it. However, they’re fearless and like to lick the water off right in front of me, as if to say “Really Mommy, that’s all you’ve got?” I’m not in the mood to be challenged by anything with four legs and fur, and I don’t negotiate with terrorists that look like children. 😛

Migraines that affect your neck, shoulder(s), face, and spine are fucking scary. There is always someone telling me a wild story about how “so and so had a migraine, and thus thought nothing of it, until they ended up in emergency surgery.” Yeah, that’s what I need to hear. That is totally going to make me feel better, thanks for sharing! I have no idea why so many people use the “this one has it worse” crap on you, as if that is somehow going to magically stop your suffering (and not just with a migraine, but with ALL things in life). FYI: It doesn’t curb your suffering at all, but it does piss you off, which isn’t good because that raises your blood pressure and damn near guarantees that this migraine isn’t going anywhere any time soon.

My biggest problem with this particular migraine is that I also hurt from my spine down to my calves. If it’s not severe pain, it’s a horrific ache or serious soreness. There is a 50% chance of rain and honestly, I’d like to see it rain a bit because that would explain the sudden increase in pain from my daily 8-9 to DEFCON 1. Historically we have never reached such a level of “readiness”, but I’m betting that a vast majority of pain patients HAVE reached that threshold. It is pain that is so bad, you’d rather feel ANYTHING ELSE but that pain. It applies to more than just the physical.

Doctors have often told me “It gets better as you get older.” That’s what they told my mother when I had horrible growing pains and constantly felt like my muscles and bones were going to pop off. Now, doctors ask whether or not you can remember if you had bad growing pains as a child, because that often signifies whether or not you might suffer from a form of chronic pain later on in life. They ask about your long-dead relatives medical histories, as if you know all about your “dead before I was born” Grandparents and Great-Grandparents. Unfortunately, I remember those growing pains the same way I will remember my current pain a month from now, with 100% muscle memory.

I fully intended to get some serious editing done today. I have a client crawling up my butt (I have more to say on this subject, but it’s unprofessional, so I’m going to shut my mouth) asking for a timeline for delivery. We’ve never discussed one before, but as I go through pages and pages of work that requires severe corrections with every sentence, I had to be honest (I chose professional honesty as opposed to niceness because I don’t have niceness in me at the moment.) and tell exactly her how much work is involved. The cleaner the manuscript, the less work there is for me, but as a developmental editor, I fact check and do way more than I’m being paid for, and yet from a writer’s perspective, I cannot tell if it’s just excitement at the prospect of having never been edited before, or anxiety that a professional is dissecting your work. I don’t know, I suspect it could be a lot of both, but I’m also in too much pain and under too much stress to sit and psycho-analyze it. I also hesitate to ask because I’m about .1 seconds from losing it on just about anyone. I’ve never failed a client before; it’ll get done, but work stops when I’m in agony and being nagged.

Right now, today is turning into another “Must Take Care Of Me” day. I truly don’t feel there are enough days like this because I often turn my attention to helping someone with a problem, or doing something else to shift my internal focus off the pain. Focusing solely on my own needs is slightly unnatural to me, but for now, it MUST be a priority.

Here’s hoping that none of my readers are hurting like this today. 😦 This is the kind of pain only Hitler deserves!

Mondays…The Bane Of My Existence

2015-05-042015-05-04 Miss Poison Being Sick, Fibromyalgia, Heat, Honesty, Life, Mondays, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Writing Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, Migraines, Mondays, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Writing

Maybe it is lack of quality sleep or the fact that I woke up stressed, but this particular Monday is making me ill. The eerie quietness was giving off a lovely early Sunday morning vibe, which was helping calm my nerves…until the mowing and trimming started, AGAIN. I’ve had a migraine since last night, so the sound is like a never-ending sickness within me. I didn’t realize it until just now, but the smell is also murdering my sinuses. Spring allergies on top of all this physical pain AND a migraine? It’s unbelievably cruel.

The migraine is never truly gone. It will lull me into a false sense of security and then come slamming back, making me feel like my brain is being rattled. Has anyone received successful Botox treatment for their migraines? If so, please share your experiences with me.

Originally, I had some semblance of a plan for today. I had ideas laid out for work and I will definitely begin the process of writing certain things, but I’m realizing right now that some serious self-care is also in order. Today is going to be one of the hottest days that I’ve seen in quite some time, topping out at either under 90 degrees or over, so I think my first order of business before it kicks into high gear is to start hydrating, and to refill the Brita pitcher as a precautionary measure. Heat and I don’t mix well. In my mind’s eyes, it’s a “Wicked Witch melting” moment.

Something about the heat always makes me sick. It affects my entire body (pain, stress, stomach issues) and it exhausts me to the point where I will close my eyes and wake up five hours later. Like many things, the heat does Fibromyalgia no favors. It irks me that a person can’t spend five minutes educating themselves about Fibromyalgia, or any chronic illness, but when you explain that you’re sick, their response is selfish and self-centered, with claims of also having it. And yet, when they describe the pain they experience, you know their journey has yet to even take place because, while it may have been diagnosed, it is the utmost of mild for them. They don’t have to spend a week in bed after two days of serious activity. The only thing they do experience is widespread pain, but it’s not constant. Well, unless you’re on a morphine drip, Fibro is a constant. There are over 100 symptoms and side effects, but if you’ve only got one or two of them, I have a hard time relating because I score over 85 on the list, and that’s extremely disturbing to me. This disease is robbing me of my youth and energy in ugly ways.

So, if I don’t do or say something today that you expected, please forgive me. I’m waging war, both physically and mentally. I don’t have time for frivolous nonsense.

These Days

2015-05-022015-05-02 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Life, Musings, Pain, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Survival, Writing

When you suffer from any form of chronic illness, and I can only speak from experience with Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain, there are days when you cannot fathom getting out of bed, leave alone getting out of the house. The pain is just that great in its magnitude that functioning is taken out of the equation. You reach a point where you merely exist.

When I push myself, I make everything worse. It often takes me 5-6 hours just to get my mind right in order to get ready and leave. I have to factor in so many things in these decisions. My big motivator isn’t about myself though, it’s usually about making sure the girls have all that they need. If they don’t, I have no choice but to get shit done, even if it means not being able to walk at all for several days.

I woke up in a dark head space. Despite going to bed early last night, I accidentally left the air on instead of the heat. That’s how crazy the weather has been. By the time I reached the “everything hurts and I can’t move because everything is stiff” stage, it was 62 degrees inside. In this house, that’s like 45 degrees with a bitter wind chill. So, the heat went on and I went back to sleep for a few hours. When I officially woke up, it was “too hot” at 66 degrees, which just goes to show you that Fibro is no joke. There are days I am wrapped in a blanket when everyone else is in shorts and tank tops. There are also days when I’ve got two layers on and people are saying “You’re not hot?” When I’m really cold, I’m even wearing socks inside. I never know which way my internal temperature will slide or what the external will make me feel. There are days when 70 degrees makes me want to pass out and die, but if there’s a cooler breeze within the temperature, I’m okay. These days, even my hair hurts, and that’s never a good sign.

I am slowly pulling myself together today to hit two stores. If I don’t go, no one eats, including me. The last thing I want to do today is go anywhere, but for now, it’s just about calming the pain and stress levels down a few notches and hoping that a cool shower will wake me up enough later on so that I can run these two errands and come home.

I won’t lie: My first option was to have everything delivered or ready to pick up, thus minimizing my actual need to force myself out. Alas, two different stores were “out of stock”, so I have no choice but to go there myself and figure out what their deal is. Unless you’re having some kind of epic sale, there’s no way you’re completely “out of stock”, not unless you want to screw with me or there’s something wrong with your on-line system. It’s all very frustrating. It’s even more pathetic that I thought “Wow, that’ll be a breeze. I can just go in, pick up the order, and come straight home. I don’t even NEED to wear make-up!” Of course now, pride determines that I do not leave the house without looking like a human-being. Think Corpse Bride, with a lot of curves.

I admit, I have become moody due to the limitations from pain. If I don’t cook dinner by a certain time each night, which is the right time to allow me to be in bed in a timely fashion, then it’s simply not happening. And if I don’t eat a balanced diet, I will be deathly ill. One of my best friends joked that I’m damn near a vegetarian these days, which isn’t true, but can seem that way at times from the outside looking in. I don’t share in the vegetarian or vegan belief systems, so it’s really not possible for me to be either. It’s not about achieving some kind of goal or physical look, it’s merely about eating to live and getting proper amounts of rest. I hurt too damn much to get into semantics with people.

As the sun begins its rise above all the clouds, I keep wondering exactly when the “perfect” time is to get the hell out of here. Truth is, by the time I clean my bathtub (which I do several times a week because it annoys me), get ready, put up a load of laundry, and leave the house, it might very well be 4:00 PM. Trust me, the clothes are already in the dryer by the time I’m leaving, if not already dry, so there’s also that time in the “getting ready” process. Waste not.

It would be SO NICE to have someone to rely on in times like these. Someone dependable to say “I’ve got this, you go rest.” Not everyone is blessed with people in their lives who are willing to physically assist with errands and chores that have to get done. It’s not that I don’t want to do these things for myself, this isn’t about laziness, it’s about illness. I promised myself I’d learn how to ask for help this year, and accept the help that comes my way, but so far, I’ve hit a lot of brick walls and it’s disturbing to me. I loathe people who say one thing and do another, in all aspects of life. Don’t open your mouth unless you can follow through.

I’m sitting here with my tiny list, but all it does is stress me out. Normally I love grocery shopping and taking care of others, but in this moment, I’d really like someone to take care of me. I physically feel too broken to do it myself.

Beltane Blessings To All

2015-05-012015-05-01 Miss Poison Beltane, Blessings, Editing, Emotions, Fibromyalgia, Fridays, Life, Loss, May, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Beltane, Hockey, Loss, Loved Ones, May, Migraines, Musings, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Beltane Blessings everyone! 🙂 I wish I were able to enjoy this holiday as I once did, but seeing as how it is the anniversary of a loved ones’ death, it’s still a bitter pill to swallow. Tomorrow is the 7th anniversary of the death of a beloved cat, so I’ve decided to take it easy this weekend and do my best to decompress. This week has already been stressful to the point of severe darkness.

I am still trying hard to focus on the manuscript I’m working on. You KNOW you have flipped over to the dark side of OCD when you find something wrong with your own work every single time you open the file. I keep making changes and then I have to remind myself that revisions will be made by the author, and it will be edited a final time. So, I need to push forward and let some, if not all, of the nagging in my brain go. I can’t really afford to rip any hair out of my head. Short hair, on me, is not a good look.

If you’re going to the movies this weekend, please let me know how the new Avengers movie is. I am really looking forward to seeing it. Unfortunately, I’ll have to get it on DVD because I simply do not have the time now for a movie or anything even remotely social on an external level. It’s quite sad, really, but I suspect it will be quite a while before I am able to focus on my social life, or even mild entertainment. For now, my DVR is difficult enough.

Last night I watched my team lose Game 1 (I’m going to hunt Henrik Lundqvist down and have a little chat with him about his idea of goaltending. I didn’t have time last night to threaten to beat him with his own stick when he allowed the Caps to win with 1 second left on the clock!! I’d rather sit through overtime than have my team lose at home. UGH!) of the second round of the playoffs, flipped over to The Blacklist, and then went to bed. That means there’s approximately 8-9 hours of “How much do I WATCH?!” on my DVR. If you saw the queue, you’d think I had absolutely no brain cells OR a lot of free time on my hands. I have all of my brain cells, that I’m aware of, and damn near no free time on my hands. If I had free time, I’d use it to murder my neighbor across the street who is currently mowing his lawn for the third time this week. The first two times were while I was trying not to cave my own skull in from migraines. Each time he saw another neighbor mowing within a 1-3 house range, which automatically spurred him to come out and proceed to mow, trim, and be a pain in the ass. I suspect now he is trying to make it even shorter than it was two days ago, before we get rain. Either the man is incredibly bored to be mowing in 50 degree weather OR he needs a hobby. I’m thinking it’s a combination of both. No one needs to mow their lawn that often. This is NOT a golf course or Yankee Stadium, nor is it a football field with real grass on it. Unless you’ve somehow managed to use 10-30 bottles of Miracle-Gro in a matter of days, you don’t need to be out there every few days mowing the same patch of grass over and over again. It’s borderline psychotic. (Plus, every time I sneeze from the smell of cut grass wafting in, which drives me allergies insane, my kitten mimics the sound with a meowish squeak. She feels my pain.) The fact that another neighbor across the street just joined in on this madness makes me feel like I’m listening to a dentist’s drill on a loop.

When you suffer from migraines, you become incredibly sensitive to noise. I rarely mind good music (I said GOOD.) and I can tolerate certain things at an extremely low level, but everything else is just a great big NO and has been for almost 18 years. My migraines have progressively gotten worse, so I’m extremely audio-sensitive and equally photosensitive. For me, the latter is far easier to manage most days, but especially on dark, grey days like today.

Okay peeps, I am going back to work, or at the very least, I am going to try. Enjoy your day and have an awesome weekend. 🙂

Blank, Empty, Devoid

2015-04-23 Miss Poison April, Chronic Pain, Fibromyalgia, Growth, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Support, Survival, The Future, Toxic People, Writing Growth, Honesty, Life Chapters, Moving Forward, Musings, New Beginnings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing

There have certainly been times in my life where I’ve been devoid of all emotion, except maybe anger. Sometimes rage fuels me to be stronger, better, smarter, faster. I worry sometimes that therapy weakened me, taking my strengths as a woman and turning me into a neutered puppy. But lately, due to serious concerns about my health, I am starting to feel devoid of so much. Not just emotion, but everything. I’m a pretty fearless woman, but when I’m sick every single day from stress and I don’t act on my thoughts because I know they will only result in broken bones, it distracts me from the goal at hand.

I haven’t said anything at all because this is not a personal place, though I think some would disagree and say that my writing is VERY personal. I don’t perceive it as being anything more than me being me, and allowing others to take it or leave it. But I digress; I am about to embark on a huge change in my life. It is going to take every ounce of internal, physical, and emotional strength I have left. It will not be easy. In fact, I expect it to be yet another bloody battle. I really wanted to get away from sword-sharpening and focus on my goals for the next few years, but all of that has been stripped from me, albeit temporarily. Now, all I am able to do is take things one day at a time.

Part of having Fibromyalgia to this extent means accepting help that is offered with a genuine heart. I’m finally seeing a few genuine hearts, as opposed to the kind that do something in the moment and then throw it back in your face at the most inopportune time. I’m shedding the toxic, negative people in my life and embracing the supportive, positive, loving people. I cannot deal with the bullshit or drama that comes with that constant negativity, period.

I will be slightly less present on here at times as I pack up my current life, weeding it down to the bare necessities, in preparation for the next phase. I will take time to mourn what I thought would be best for me, and embrace that which is new. Sometimes doors DO close, but dwelling on that is unhealthy. I have to believe that there is a different purpose for me, even if now, it simply feels like an immense inconvenience.

I know not everyone here is religious or spiritual, but if you’re the praying type, please keep me on the positive side of your prayers. I am sick, praying daily that I do not get worse, and that the change I am about to make is, overall, healthy and smart.

Nothing in life is perfect. Nothing in life is truly permanent, not even death. There will always be good things happening to bad people and bad things that happen to really good people. It’s twisted, it is senseless, but it’s unfortunately a part of life. All I can do is take each day as it comes and give it my best. If “my best” means staying in bed and asking for help, then so be it. I’m not here to compete with anyone and I’m certainly not walking around believing I am better than anyone else. I’m human. Take it or leave it, and if you leave, I really don’t care if the door breaks your tailbone on the way out.

I will check any messages sent to me and respond as soon as I can, but for now, I have no real answers. Each day brings different stressors and honestly, all I want is a problem solver. Alas, life does not work like that.

I pray that as this week comes to a close, I am able to solve the most pressing issues quickly. Wish me good luck. XO.

Thank God It’s Saturday!

2015-04-182015-04-18 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Family, Fibromyalgia, Friends, Honesty, Musings, Pain, People, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Self-Care, Writing Being Self-Aware, Chronic Pain, Family, Fibromyalgia Pain, Friends, Honesty, Musings, People, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Self-Care, Writing

I hate the traditional work week, which is probably why I don’t have a “traditional” job. Granted, with my injury and upsetting things going on in my personal life, I spent most of my week making phone calls, practicing self-care, doing extensive research, texting with a close family member, and trying not to commit any type of crime that would land me in prison. I’m too pale to wear orange.

The future is unclear, so perhaps I will do a tarot reading and see if the cards have any answers for me. I haven’t had to do that in a while, but I know that whatever is placed before me, even if I say I cannot do it, I WILL persevere. I can have a breakdown when the storm passes, but not before.

One of the worst things about this week has been the weather. Hot or cold, sometimes both in the same day. The trees are blooming up a storm, the bees are enormous and keep bumping into the windows, and the pressure in the air has been hell on my body. There were many nights I was in bed by 7:00 PM because the pain was simply too much to bear. I slept a full 12 hours one night this week, waking up truly wanting to remain in bed. “Mama said there’d be days like this”- hell yes, but do they all have to be in the same week!? In that moment, I hated the clock and all it stood for. Too much daylight, not enough night. It’s poison to those of us who identify as night owls, and I’m speaking for myself.

Weekends are always way too short, but they do give us a reprieve from some of the things we think during the week. For many of us, it gives us time to get things done that we’re not able to do during the week, like grocery shopping, laundry, or catching up with a movie or TV shows we didn’t have time to watch. Or it allows us to spend time with friends or family. Two of my favorite shows return this weekend: Bitten and Orphan Black. This is the time of year when many shows wrap for the season and others begin, which means you don’t have to spend the entire summer wondering why you pay for cable, satellite, or streaming service.

This past week I’ve really been able to take stock of the word “family”. I’ve also been able to take stock of the word “friend”. Some people say things because it sounds good, and other people mean it. Many talk for the sake of talking. My definitions are pretty cut & dried. If I love you and care about you, you can pretty much guarantee that I’d take a bullet for you, be you family member or friend. However, I do not forgive and forget. If that works for you, I think that’s great, but it doesn’t fly with me. I might forgive a person at some point, but I’ll do it for myself, not for them. I will never forget. Sometimes when words get thrown at you, there is no way to unhear them.

Proper communication is crucial in relationships and it’s incredibly important not to take out your own issues on someone else. If you do, apologize immediately. Hear yourself. Don’t make excuses for vile words and pretend that it can be swept under the rug. I own my shit. If I hurt or offend someone INTENTIONALLY, and I am one of those rare individuals who KNOWS when she’s doing it, then I will apologize the second I realize my mistake. If you hurt or offend me and the words “I’m sorry.” or “I was out of line.” never come out of your mouth, then don’t expect me to apologize for something I haven’t done or to accept an apology that comes too late.

A mistake some people have made with me over the past few months is to throw out the words “You misinterpreted what I said.” I’M NOT DEAF and my I.Q. hasn’t dropped. This is NOT a habit I have. If it happened daily, you could say it was a pattern and take issue with it, but it isn’t. For many, the problem is that I actually called them on their shit, pointed out a major flaw, and they don’t like it. Or, they always believe they’re right, and/or cannot admit that they said or did something inappropriate, wrong, or hurtful. Put your adult panties on, apologize, and move on. Don’t drag it out. The world doesn’t revolve around any one person, myself included.

I have work to do this weekend, in between two errands. I’m double-booked and one of those jobs is due for completion on the 24th, so I’ve got to focus and get it done. Here’s hoping I didn’t ask for too little money on this one. Unfortunately, one never knows until one is presented with certain things.

Have a nice weekend everyone. 🙂 I am off to take as much Aleve as possible and crawl into bed in the hopes that I do not waste another day in pain.

How Honest Are People About Their Mental Health? This Might Surprise You…

2015-04-11 Miss Poison Artists, Being Real, Creativity, Emotional Pain, Facebook, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, People, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Suicide, Writing Anxiety, Autism, Bipolar Disorder, Chronic Pain, Depression, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Life, Mental Health, Migraines, OCD, Out Of The Ashes, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, PTSD, Stress, Writers, Writing

Facebook needs to institute a better policy involving “friending”. Even with strict filtering, I have people sending me friend requests simply because they like something I’ve said. Why in the world would you want to be “friends” with someone who is simply the same astrological sign as you, or just happens to also be a writer/editor? I understand when people say they’re an “aspiring writer”. They want to see what they can learn from you. I am a very open person, BUT when it comes to my WIP’s, I am not about to post them anywhere for the entire world to see. I don’t want or need a critique, I don’t need someone to tell me how to be a better writer, etc. I have been doing this for 28 years this month. I know my shit. If I didn’t, I would never have continued to return to it, be it as a source of inspiration for myself or as a source of income.

Moreover, if a person openly declares themselves a “sociopath”, you probably DON’T want to accept the friend request that is sent to you an hour later simply because they “like” an intelligent and/or helpful comment that you’ve made. I keep my “inner sociopath” to myself. I do let her out on special occasions though, when a person is deserving of dealing with it. 😉

One interesting thing that caught my eye over the past couple of days was an article that other writers and aspiring writers were contributing to. I want to say that it was more a group of highly creative individuals, so there were songwriters and artists also involved in the conversation. It began with a question: “How many of us suffer from bipolar disorder or other forms of depression or anxiety?”

Nearly a hundred different people (it might have been more, this has been a rough week for me in terms of keeping in touch with others) responded with various responses that said yes and each of them explained their diagnoses. Only four or five people said they suspected they suffered from some sort of depression, but that it had never been diagnosed. About the same amount, more or less, said they did not suffer from depression.

I was very proud of everyone for openly, honestly discussing bipolar disorder, anxiety, OCD, and a plethora of other forms of “mental illness”. It hurts me to use that term AT ALL. I don’t see every single person as “mental” and I cringe when people refer to others in such a way, as opposed to educating themselves. An illness is an illness. I would never tell someone they were responsible for getting sick in the first place, but MANY do say shit like that. It baffles me. Some people even discussed varying degrees of autism. That takes incredible courage. One of my cousins is autistic, so I’m not ignorant there.

When confronted with my own mental health, I am supremely honest, but I do not advertise it. I am going through something that has made me full-blown OCD, exacerbated my PTSD to levels I didn’t even know existed, and my anxiety is so bad, I can barely sleep most nights without waking up screaming, sometimes from pain, sometimes from my medication wearing off too quickly.

From day one, I have openly, and very honestly discussed suicide. This makes people uncomfortable because they REFUSE to face the fact that they’ve romanced the idea themselves. No one can tell me they suffer from any form of depression and have NEVER considered suicide. It might have been a fleeting thought, it might be something you NEVER act on, but it still exists. This is a trigger for a lot of people. They lash out at me and decide I am no longer worth their time, all because I was HONEST. Catch me on a dark day and I might scare you with my truth, but anyone who genuinely cares about you will give you their time and concern, they will not pretend you’re “mental” or tell you to “take a pill”. Those are two of the most insulting things to tell someone.

I once had a woman piss me off at the grocery store. I was going through a stressful time with my father’s health and, in front of her children (both of whom were under the age of 12, but not younger than 8 or 9), she told them to “Get away from her, she’s “mental”. I might THINK a person is batshit in a public place, but unless they’ve caused harm to someone or they’re about to hurt themselves, I’m not stupid enough to go there.

Truth is, they were standing in front of a huge display of fruit for nearly ten minutes and wouldn’t move out of the way. How do you not tell your young kids to move over so other people can shop too? She was talking to them like they were infants, as opposed to children that have the ability to comprehend. The comment was completely out of line and off base. I turned to look at her, contemplated knocking her teeth out, and then looked at her a second longer with her kids. I felt incredibly sorry for them. I then politely took the fruit I wanted and said “Did you learn that in your many years of therapy? You might not want to pre-judge people based upon your own issues.”, and I walked away. She was left in the dust, unable to speak, because I called her on her shit.

I don’t need that kind of false denial in my life, not from any one. You don’t have to like me or love me, but I guarantee that with an open mind, you will respect me. I would never intentionally hurt someone with my candor, and it’s okay to say “Lisa, I care about you, but this upsets me too much to discuss any further.” It’s called COMMUNICATION.

I have lost people to suicide because they had no one they felt would truly listen and hear them out or “make it stop”. I’ve stopped myself many times from acting on a thought because I believed it was irrational and felt it was wrong to leave any one of 4-5 people in my life behind to discover what I’d done, or have to receive the phone call that just plain brings you to your knees. It would devastate four of them. The last person probably wouldn’t give a shit or so much as come to my funeral. I’m not a priority now, why would I be a priority then?! (Yes, that was morbid and I apologize. Two, you’d understand why I said that if you knew who I was talking about and how they have treated me.)

Being honest about what I suffer from, including migraines and Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain is part of what keeps me alive. The other part is that I am responsible for little people that love me and would have terrible difficulties without me. And even still… I often find myself thinking “This isn’t enough to live for.” It’s not coming from a selfish place, it’s coming from a place of wanting to be better, to strengthen the relationships in my life, to bring other relationships into my life and allow them to flourish. I cannot live for one thing and one thing alone. That’s my personal take on it, but it might not be yours, and that’s okay. I’m by no means here to judge you.

I want to thank the people that have supported me this past week through a living nightmare. I am surprisingly uplifted by the emotional support, care, concern, dedication, determination, and devotion. Only ONE person said “I’m proud of you.” When you’re going through hell, you do not want to be pitied, treated like a failure, or be belittled and/or disrespected. You simply want to be treated like the person that you are. I had to be reminded that I am strong, smart, and capable in the face of others trying to crush my soul. Bad things happen to all of us at some point in life. I may have been given a higher dose, perhaps God shouldn’t trust me so much, but it is what it is, and I am making peace with it.

I refuse to allow anyone to make me feel small in order to raise their own self-esteem.

If you’re honest and upfront about any illness, I applaud you. If you’re a loyal, supportive person to those that you love, I also applaud you. Compassion & genuine kindness is severely underrated.

“Things” do not make you who you are. It’s what’s inside your heart and soul that is the true value of self. The trappings are pure nonsense. They do not define you. I wish I’d understood some of that for the past ten years, but now that I do, I am determined, now more than ever, to persevere and make important things happen.

This phoenix has been reborn. Stay the hell out of my fire.

Sleep Interrupted

2015-04-032015-04-03 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Editing, Family, Fibromyalgia, Fridays, Honesty, Life, Loss, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Chronic Pain, Easter, Fibromyalgia, Good Friday, Holiday Weekends, Honesty, Musings, Passover, Pieces, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

I was in bed last night right after The Blacklist ended (If you don’t watch this show, you should. I never intended for it to become something I watch, but the pilot had me hooked from day one.). I flew up the steps, washed my face, brushed my teeth, and after double-checking cat bowls, got into bed. I slept well, until about 5:30 when I started smelling coffee. You know what that means, right?

Just yesterday I told Him “Do not touch my non-dairy creamer. I need it for my tea.” I made threats, none of which were nice, all of which were serious. I take tea time very seriously. When you drink 3-5 cups of tea a day, it’s clearly something you enjoy. I like mine a certain way and plain is not on that list.

I went downstairs in search of the smell, but He was in hiding, and rightly so. When I find him, it won’t be pretty. I fed cat and kitten and stomped back up the steps, furious, but still in need of additional beauty sleep. I was able to get a little more sleep, and have been awake ever since. He is going out later and replacing my creamer because I am not pleased that I can’t have tea until it arrives. Bastard.

This morning, waking up was not what I had in mind at all. It feels like a Saturday, perhaps because it is deathly quiet out. Apparently the kids are not in school this week, which makes no sense to me since Passover is next week and I don’t know how prudent it is for them to have two weeks off, but whatever. Not my circus, not my monkeys.

I’m stressed and I HURT. The weather keeps going back and forth between the 20’s and the 60’s, and while it is utterly beautiful to have milder temperatures, even if it’s a rainy day, it still messes with my body.

I have no plans this holiday weekend. Technically, Passover begins tonight at sundown. My family is scattered across the States and overseas, so I’m not attending any seders, nor was I invited to any. I will keep editing this manuscript so that I can move on to the others she has in store for me, and watch The Hunger Games: Mockingjay Part 1. I’m trying to make tentative plans for tomorrow, just to be able to enjoy the day for a few hours out of doors, but nothing is etched in stone. If I’m feeling up to it, maybe I’ll just take a long walk.

As I’ve said before, the holidays are lonely. I miss my parents and Grandparents terribly. Loss often feels like it happened yesterday, but the years come and go and life moves on, even if the pain of each loss remains with you. I find myself astounded by people who never seem to be affected by the loss of a loved one, who return to work immediately, who never discuss the person again, etc. Are people really that cold and detached, or is that the “coping mechanism” utilized by most people? What is your take on that?

Regardless of what you celebrate, I wish you a wonderful holiday filled with family, friends, laughter, joy, and peace. Me? I just want my tea. LOL.