Utterly Useless

2015-05-13 Miss Poison Being Sick, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Writing Allergies, Being Sick, Cats, Fibromyalgia Pain, Kittens, Pets, Pieces Of Me, Spring, Writing

Hello everyone! I’m sorry that I’ve been completely and utterly useless for the last few days, which explains my lack of posts. I got slammed by allergies and haven’t really been able to function a whole lot. The shift into Spring is difficult for those of us with allergies, especially if you live on the East Coast and you’re experiencing the incredibly odd shift each day. The nights are either cold or mild, the days are mild, warm, sometimes way too hot, and if the pollen count is high, forget it. There is nothing consistent about this, it’s all incredibly random. This time around, my allergies are seemingly pet related. I’m not giving cat and kitten to someone else, so I just have to suck it up. Clawing at my face and eyes all day isn’t exactly a clear picture of who I am, so I think it’s best to handle it and get on with my life. I’m fine, until the Benadryl wears off. Basically that means I’m fine, so long as I am knocked out on Benadryl and resting, to some extent. My eye drops haven’t been very helpful either, which makes me grouchy. In my attempt to “make it better”, I obsessively laundered every single thing either of them has touched or slept on that could affect me, because naturally they both insist on fussing over my things and only sleeping on their own when convenient. I discovered one additional item this morning. If I contemplate it for too long, I will end up in an allergists’ office demanding allergy shots. Alas, it can take years for those to work, if they work at all.

If it hasn’t been killer allergies, it’s been other things keeping my “under the weather”, for lack of a better expression. I simply do not feel right these days. My Fibromyalgia has been so bad that I feel bruised, achy, and sore from the top of my spine down to my calves. The sparring I did Sunday night resulted in a bruised right hand from a knuckle on knuckle hit. Properly job is apparently equals out to “more pain”. Unfortunately, it’s one of the few things I can do for several hours that doesn’t make me want to rip my limbs off. I have to chalk that up to a cruel joke.

Beyond that, there’s really not much to report or say. I am working on some ideas, letting them stew. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day for what I want and need to do, especially when I feel like crap. This, I suspect, is the chronic fatigue aspect of Fibromyalgia that often rears its ugly head when you’ve done too much in a short period of time. It certainly explains my intense desire to take naps when I normally power through the afternoons with writing or editing projects.

Here’s hoping all of this passes soon and that I can return to status quo. Pain is still pain, but sleeping like a coma patient and acting like a zombie the rest of the time is disturbing.

I hope your week is turning out to be far more productive. Just don’t brag if it is. No one appreciates a smart ass. 😛

Exhausted To The Bone

2015-05-08 Miss Poison Adult Orphans, Exhaustion, Honesty, Mother's Day, Motherless Daughters, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Adult Orphans, Exhaustion, Limitations, Motherless Daughters, Musings, Not Today, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Reading, Rest, Sleep, Writing

I went to bed exhausted, I woke up more exhausted than when I originally went to bed. Lately, there never seems to be enough sleep. I found myself wanting to nod off for four hours yesterday, but when I finally committed myself to “a nap”, I ended up reading for over three hours. I hadn’t planned on reading at all, I simply thought if I started reading something nonsensical, I’d make myself even sleepier. It was counter-intuitive.

I think the stress of the week and of many, many months has finally hit me today. I have absolutely no desire to do anything. I just want to rest. My brain is tired, my body is tired, and you can only ignore your body for so long before exhaustion catches up with you and doesn’t let go. That is definitely chronic fatigue.

My brain is barely working to form complete sentences properly. I have dueling issues. My stomach is telling me that we’re hungry and should try making some soup. My brain is saying that the soup can wait because if we’re not properly rested, we will burn the house down. I got distracted last weekend when I had something in the oven. I set the timer and instead of staying within a 15 foot range of the kitchen, I walked upstairs to check my phone. I went to check e-mail quickly or something, but then I got into texting with someone and the next thing I know, the timer is going off and there’s a slight smoky smell rising. I was also doing laundry, so clearly I was pulling myself pretty thin. Sadly, I didn’t hear the timer, which is quite scary. When I did go downstairs because the smell wasn’t right, I finally heard the timer and felt like a complete and utter moron. On top of being dangerous, I was just plain out of it. Now I stay close by, because the last thing I should be doing is something that could lead to the harm of myself or others. I’m too drained to be able to leave something alone while I’m in the middle of making it, and right now I’m truly too drained to actually make something. I don’t even think I’m capable of walking down the steps.

This Sunday is Mother’s Day, so don’t be alarmed if I make myself extremely scarce. This is an incredibly difficult time of year for me. Each year, I’m reminded that I am a Motherless Daughter. One year I waited until the day settled and went grocery shopping that night, because all I wanted to do was avoid the mother/daughter bonding that this weekend brings forth. If you haven’t experienced this kind of loss, or the kind of bond I shared with my mother, it’s not something one can easily relate to, so I tend to just close up shop for about 10 days and keep my mouth shut, lest I somehow manage to offend someone with my honesty and/or directness. Ultimately, there is always someone who will find me offensive in some way. It’s not my issue, it’s theirs, but I don’t want or need the drama.

So in advance, I wish ALL mothers: Pet mothers, Grandmothers, Godmothers, Aunts, and especially single mothers a very happy day. I’ll be okay, but if you can’t find me I MIGHT be sitting in the dark with chocolate pudding.

Overdoing It

2015-05-06 Miss Poison Charities, Exhaustion, Musings, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Uncategorized, Writing Editing, Fibromyalgia Pain, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

When you feel good for even a split second, you try capitalizing on it by squeezing in things from your “to do” list. Mine is more like a “must do” list. I am currently packing things up from my home for donation. There are plenty of people who need home goods and other things I will never use, so I’d like to get about 10-12 boxes ready for any charity that is willing to pick them up. This always helps me feel good; purging things I will never use that can help others. I choose a different charity each time, that way I’m helping more people. I believe that the good you send out into the world is a reflection and will be there for you in times when you most need it. It’s very much the “Law Of Three” for me. “That which you send out into the world returns to you threefold. Send it again and it returns in ten.” I think that’s a really nice way to spread positivity and hope.

Unfortunately, having that brief moment yesterday where I felt okay means I can barely move my upper body today. I fully intended to do a few more boxes this afternoon, but perhaps I should take some Aleve first. It’s sad that I’ve had to depend on Aleve for Fibromyalgia pain for well over a year now. Sometimes it helps for short periods of time, and other times it’s as if I swallowed Tic-Tacs. How promising. 😦 I definitely need to go back to herbs on a semi-regular basis.

I was able to get some editing done yesterday, despite being ticked off and despite the migraine from hell. I found so much wrong with the work though that I continued to over-analyze it. There are times when, as an editor, I have to step back and remind myself that it’s the writing, and it’s not MY work causing the issues. I think the best idea is to move forward and get it done. Whatever isn’t perfect will be re-done during the final round of editing, after revisions and rewrites. I know she has several other things she wants me to edit once this one returns to her for rewrites, which will be extensive, she has no idea how serious I am with my notes, and despite wanting a brief respite to focus on my own life, I think continuing with the same client is a good thing.

One of the new things I am getting ready to do is design my book cover. Even though I will be pursuing traditional publishing, I still want to have an idea of how the book will look. I’m going to draw up a rough sketch and talk it over with a graphic designer. Branding yourself properly is never a bad thing. In fact, it’s quite smart.

And so, I am off to tackle a few boxes and then do some charity research to see who needs what and how quickly they can come.

Enjoy the rest of your day!

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!

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. 🙂

100% Anti-Idiot

2015-04-302015-04-30 Miss Poison Honesty, Idiots, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Honesty, Idiots, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thursday, Writing

I’m not sure who shit in everyone’s breakfast this morning, but the lunatics are EVERYWHERE. The Full Moon is next week which might have been able to explain some of this away, but no. I’m dumbfounded by the levels of idiocy I’m seeing. It’s like a disease, spreading every second. I can only follow the conversation for so long until my brain starts to hurt. I’m coming off of several days worth of migraines and horrific physical pain, so I’m trying NOT to go back to a place of pain. In turn, it’s time to speak my peace and turn the computer off for a good 8-10 hours.

We live in an opinionated world, but no one on this planet holds the key to every single aspect of knowledge roaming around. That is virtually and statistically impossible. Unfortunately, opinions ARE like assholes and the world, and Internet, are FULL of them. This saddens me, because for every 100,000 assholes, there’s one smart person looking for other smart people. Reach out smart people, reach out!

Is there nothing I can do to shield myself from all this insanity? Yes: Walk away. Let the idiots run their mouths. Let them put their feet in their mouths. Let them choke on their own hip bones, but do not, I repeat, do NOT, engage. Because apparently it’s not Thursday, it’s “Know It All” Day. And all I can think is “I did NOT know that!” LOL.

I’m too fucking tired to deal with idiots that cannot carry on an intelligent, adult conversation. The holidays are over, so I don’t expect people to preach religion at each other and sound like even bigger assholes by doing so. Even with a Presidential election coming up next year, I do NOT want to hear every Tom, Dick, and Harry’s twisted opinions. I don’t want to hear Jane, Mary, and Lizzy’s opinions either. I have my own, I am legally entitled to them, and I really don’t care who other people THINK I should vote for. For now, I simply want to eat something and take a fucking nap (kitten is napping nearby and looks so precious. I love cat-napping with the purrables.). I’ve been up longer than most people have been at work today, no judging.

Later, I just want to watch the fucking hockey game and be left alone. Peace and quiet, even if only an illusion, is still peace and quiet.

In the meantime, while I am living my idiot free existence, let me know how you’re faring as you dodge what I am sure are your very own idiots du jour. Can’t we send them somewhere? Isn’t there a country that needs a larger population?! Because I am more than happy to send them a list of people they can collect as their very own citizens. If I factor in people I know, as well as strangers, they’d have a million new citizens by tomorrow morning.

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.

Lisa’s Unwritten Rules #1

2015-04-152015-04-15 Miss Poison Editing, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writers, Writing Brutal Honesty, Courtesy, Editing, Editors, Musings, Outrageous Expectations, Rules, Work, Writers, Writing

I have a very long list of ‘Unwritten Rules’. Most of them pertain to manners and common decency, but the rest, in my opinion, center around basic common sense.

If you’re a writer and you’re in need of an editor, PLEASE do not expect me to work for free. I cannot tolerate being approached for developmental editing, which is extremely time-consuming, only to be told “I have no budget”. Okay, I get that. Which is precisely why I let people contract me out via a payment plan. It’s so easy, you’d have to be a moron not to be able to follow it. If you would buy things on a credit card that you have to pay off monthly, then look at editing as a much more important investment in your future. If you have it done right, you never have to spend additional funds to have it re-done after it’s published and you suddenly find it riddled with unimaginable, not to mention embarrassing, errors.

Very few editors with experience are “inexpensive”. If I charged by the hour, no one would be able to afford me, so I charge based on the type of editing needed. If someone wants a flyer done, that’s not expensive. If you need an editor to critique or simply proofread, again, that’s really not expensive. But a book manuscript? If it were “cheap”, I wouldn’t hire me, I’d run for the hills! I go so far as to hold a spot for you in my schedule if you say “I will need you by a specific date.” The payment plans work out for me too because they help pay my bills and like everyone else, you cannot ignore a mortgage, rent, utilities, the cost of food, etc. They’re basic facts of life.

I am flat-out DONE working for peanuts. Been there, done that. I’m NOT going in reverse. I’m not a teenager or college student who needs to pad her resume or gain experience. Do not bring me a 100,000+ word, 300+ page manuscript and expect that to cost a few dollars to edit, or that I’ll listen to the story of how you desperately want to succeed, but cannot pay me. I can only do so many random acts of kindness before I start feeling like a moron.

It’s perfectly okay to say I don’t fit into your budget and look elsewhere for someone who is ~~stupid enough to work for nothing~~ going to take the job, but don’t disrespect me and then expect us to be “friends”. If you think a monkey can do the edit, then by all means, hire the fucking monkey.

I am one of the easiest people to have edit your work. I am highly communicative, I fact check, I make sure your work is going to grow and be solid down the road. I do a LOT and I’m always available to you. I came up with the idea of payment plans because many people have budgets and I understand that. Not every editor is okay with that though. I know many that ask for the entire amount up front (this could be several hundred dollars or several thousand, depending on how they price things. In-house editors make all of us look inexpensive as freelancers.), or, like me, a percentage to take the job and the rest by the time the manuscript is finished. That’s not an unfair request, especially if I’ve never worked with you before. I do a lot of first edits and final edits for people. When I give someone a price I have to factor in that I proofread it several times, provide extensive notes, and all the other things I previously mentioned. I also have to factor in that I often do research for certain clients. It doesn’t take two days. You have to respect that you’re hiring someone for their talent and ability, and that they’re taking the time to help you become a better writer. You get what you pay for, but many of my clients are astounded by what I have to go through simply to be paid like a human being. When it insults them, it reaffirms that my prices aren’t unreasonable.

When looking for an editor, look at the character of the person. I’ve had many people tell me they got a friend to help them, but that the friend “didn’t push them to be better”. As someone who strives daily to be better, I understand the need for a fresh set of eyes and someone who will be honest with you. I’m going to point out plot holes and other issues, that way when you re-write it, you know what your strengths and weaknesses are. If it were my work, no matter how much editing I’d done on my own, I’d STILL require an editor myself because I’d need someone who could be detached and push me to be greater. That’s one part of the artistry of being a good writer. Knowing when to detach and allow someone to further along your talents.

NEVER expect that person to A) Do it for free or B) Not have bills to pay. Courtesy and respect begets courtesy and respect. And if ever you don’t mesh well with an editor, do not be afraid to move on to someone else who might be the perfect fit.

Rant over.