Total Recall

Sometimes when you remember the worst days that have occurred throughout your life, the simple notion of recollection can make you deathly ill. Everyone is different in this respect. Some people have no reaction at all, and others mourn for years, feeling as though their lives are immersed in various forms of tragedy. The fact that I have total recall of events like this makes it harder for me to heal and “move on”, though I am a firm believer that we should all go through the different stages of grief in our own time and at our own pace. No one should ever tell you that something happened “so long ago” and to “get over it”. If they do, you have my full permission to beat them with the weapon of your choice and tell them to “get over it”. (Disclaimer: I am not promoting violence.)

Sixteen years ago, a friend of mine lost his life. He should have lived. I’m thinking of his kids today and it makes me nauseous knowing how their father was snatched from them so early in their lives. Alas, setting my emotions aside on this particular subject is difficult. I could go on and on about it for a year, but it would only end up being repetitious. So for now, I have to move on to another subject, but it’s hard to forget. 😦

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I spend no time at all worrying about whether or not people like me. Likeability is highly overrated, and it reminds me of all the people-pleasing children in kindergarten who, oftentimes, become people-pleasing adults. That this is taught by parents and continues to happen makes me sick to my stomach. Who are people helping here, other than psychiatrists and therapists? I was raised with a very simple concept: Not everyone is going to like you and it is almost guaranteed that you won’t like everyone either, so just be yourself. Thank you Mom! 🙂 She didn’t just give me good genes, she gave me an exceptional mind and didn’t foster negativity.

Why am I talking about this? Because it disturbs me how society seeks constant approval. Do you like this? Am I pretty? Should I get Botox? Should I get breast implants? Do you like these shoes? What do you think of the car I just bought (And by all means, let me tell you exactly how much it cost, too.)? SERIOUSLY?! When did we stop asking ourselves what WE want and like? Why do we give a shit what the “color of the year” is? If you can explain any of this nonsense, you’ve already thought about it way too hard. It’s a statement, it doesn’t require a response.

All of the things that matter most in life: Health, happiness, family… It’s damn near thrown on the side of the road like unwanted garbage. There are people who would kill to have their health in tact. There are people who are desperately seeking even just small aspects of happiness. And family? Well, everyone’s interpretation is different. As long as there is love, care, support, honesty, laughter, not to mention safety, then that is a huge part of what makes a family. As a product of an abusive home and someone whose mother ultimately put her foot down and said “No more.” and left, I only wish she’d done it sooner. I often wonder if things would be different now if she had, but I try not to look in the rearview mirror too often because it’s unhealthy to be so distracted when there’s so much in front of you.

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Memorial Day Weekend is the unofficial start of summer here in the United States, but it’s also about remembering why we have the freedoms that we do and honoring those who have fought for this country. I am not a fan of summer (and it’s way too cold at the moment to even think about the intensity of summer heat and humidity), but I have family members and friends who have served in different branches of the armed forces, and I salute them all.

No matter where you reside in this world, take stock of the things that are most important this weekend and take the time to enjoy something and smile.

Have a happy & safe weekend.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Memories

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There are so many things in life that can be chalked up into two different categories: Good memories and bad memories. There are also “middle of the road” memories, but I’ll leave that for another day.

I woke up way too early this morning. It was still dark outside. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why I was so annoyed, bothered, and agitated. I was trying very hard not to be viciously bitchy, so I decided to keep my mouth shut. The one thing I didn’t do was sit around and ponder it, I got up and went off in search of something to do.

It probably took me four or five hours to realize that today is May 20th, the anniversary of my Uncle’s death. It astounds me that it’s been several years and didn’t just happen yesterday, which is precisely how it feels. I was completely numb then, in absolute disbelief, and I’m numb today.

I miss him. 

A framed photo of him is on top of the armoire in the corner of my bedroom. I glanced up at it a little while ago, because his presence can be felt. He was the kind of person that could walk into any room and command it with absolute certainty. He had an incredibly magnetic personality and much like me, you either loved him or you didn’t. He didn’t waste time trying to win you over if you were clearly on the other side, nor did he have to. He was one of the finest human-beings to walk this planet. He always treated me like a prized daughter. Always.

A lot of women are often accused of seeking out “father figures” in their marriage choices, especially if they come from an abusive background with a father or if they never had a male role model to look to as they grew up. I am not one of those women. I do look at men closely to see how they might behave in the future with children of their own, but I do not see them as a “fatherly role model” for myself. Nor should I. It’s one of the healthier aspects of who I am in a relationship. I know myself and I know what I’m looking for. There are plenty of good men that aren’t good fathers, and plenty of good fathers who aren’t good partners or good men.

Despite the mixed emotions I have about my father and the relationship I had with him, the relationship with my Uncle is not one I ever question. Was I loved? Yes. Was I treated with respect? Absolutely. In fact, there were probably times I was treated better than his own children because we had a very deep bond. Not only can I visually pass for one of his daughters, but it’s precisely what people think when they look at me. The two people in this world I most closely resemble are my mother and my Uncle, and both of them are gone.

I have amazing memories of my Uncle. Yes, he was slightly off the wall and uniquely himself, but goodness radiated from his soul. This is, after all, the man who snuck into one of my graduation ceremonies and stood in the back so as not to interfere with the ceremony. But as I got on stage to receive my diploma, his unmistakable presence was a huge part of why I was smiling in my photos. He always showed his love and support in immense ways.

I thank him, today and always, for all that he taught me. He believed in my ability to achieve my goals, to reach new heights, and to chart new territory. As I go through a new phase in my life, I am reminded of his smiling eyes and how proud of me he always was, no matter what. He didn’t always need words, his eyes said everything for him.

I was incredibly blessed to have you in my life and I am in awe of the lives you were able to touch in your 58 years. I also breathe a sigh of relief knowing that you did not suffer.

I love you Uncle R. Thank you…for everything.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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I Wrote Today…Be Thrilled

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! 😦

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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.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Mother & Daughter

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First friend; best friend.

The reason I am who I am.

The person who encouraged me never to follow, but always to lead.

Guide-post. Lighthouse. Anchor.

Part angel, part saint.

The best listener.

Could always see the best in me, even when I didn’t believe there was any.

Teacher of so much.

Giver of books, music, art, culture, and life.

Laughter ’til we cried.

Taught me, in part, how to be a mother with a very simple gift.

Saw my talents clearer than anyone else.

Hated it when friends disappointed, lied, and hurt me. Enraged when men did the same.

Was always in awe of my strength.

Was not afraid to lean on me and allow me to be strong when she was not.

My first audience.

Lover of sunsets, rainbows, lilacs, and cats.

Honesty, Integrity, Loyalty, Love, Friendship.

You thought I was the blessing, but I know with certainty that I was blessed to have you as my mother.

You worked two jobs, took care of your children, and never once looked back. That is immense heroism.

Small aspects of who you are and what you mean to me.

Words fail…

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I learned from my mother, but I also taught her in kind. Our relationship was one of kindred spirits. I’m strong and fierce because she was not able to be that kind of woman, having been raised differently. She encouraged my voice because she often felt she did not have one that others would listen to. She is the reason I am a supremely confident writer.

Days like today are very hard. They are made easier when one can honor their loved one, in their own attempt to heal. Truth be told, I don’t think one can ever repair the hole inside my heart at such a devastating loss, but I’m trying.

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“Serenity is yours.
When chaos looms seek the sweet
Surrender of simplicity.
Gaze above at the glassy sky,
Feel each blade of green
Beneath your feet,
Listen to the sound of faith
Like a reed flute playing
Inside your chest.
Breathe.
Stand in witness of
Your true nature.
Remember the compassion
Of the lover’s eyes,
The calm wisdom of
The elder’s voice.
Go within. Be at rest without.
Fall to your knees in gratitude.
You have all you need.
Turn from the riot of distraction.
Let it roll over and beyond you.
Serenity is yours.
It lives always within your reach.”

-Ching Qu Lam

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Nightmares In Editing

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I am an immense fan of what I call the “clean manuscript”. That means the manuscript doesn’t require me to do any of the following: Lose hair. Attempt to remove my eyeballs with a fork or melon baller. Grind my teeth. Slouch over my laptop in sheer disgust. And those are just a few of my reactions to having to work on the dreaded “dirty manuscript”. Clean manuscripts allow me to do my job properly, efficiently, and the result is always a pleased client, which is what both client and editor should desire as the end result.

The cleaner the manuscript, the quicker it will be returned to you. I am happy to correct all minor things I catch, all major things, and provide you with extensive notes regarding readability, plot, etc. It’s my job, and I do it well. The reason I loathe the “dirty manuscript” is because it requires months of attention. Most people have never re-read their original manuscript, they just turn it over to me and expect me to make it readable and sellable. I’m good, but I am not a miracle worker. If you give me a manuscript that requires rewrites, revisions, and overhauls, the blame does not reside with me. In fact, I don’t see why there needs to be blame at all. It is what it is. I cannot polish something that isn’t a diamond in the rough, or even a high quality gemstone.

The best way to get the right results in the editing process is as follows:

A- Work your story, and write it well. Outlining helps for some, and distracts others. Do what works for you. Everyone is different in this respect, and that’s okay.

B- Always use proper spelling and grammar. Do not use slang. When in doubt, use a thesaurus and/or a dictionary. They will be incredibly helpful tools for you at all times.

C- It is NOT beneath me to remind you that “alright” is NOT a word. Every time someone tells me they’re a writer and they use words like “alright” or “anyways”, I die a little inside.

D- I hate over-use of any particular word, especially in the same sentence or paragraph. If I see it twice in the same sentence to describe something or someone, I’m cutting it. I will tell you in my notes precisely why I cut it and correct you when you do it again and again.

E- Be open to any and all legitimate suggestions from your editor. After all, a good editor wants you to succeed.

Many writers struggle with spelling, proper tense, punctuation, remaining in one point of view at a time, and grammar. These are things I take note of and assist with. I always double-check spelling for the country of origin, or the country in which the author is seeking publication. American English is different from British English, which is also used in a vast majority of countries far away from the U.K. Some people request I edit in American English and others request British English. I’m good with both, but I do suggest that a person have two separate copies when they are looking for representation with agents more than one market.

When in doubt of how good or interesting your work may or may not be, hire a beta reader. You do not want friends, family, or the lady down the street to tell you how fabulous your work is before it has even seen an editor, but you DO need someone who will tell you the absolute truth and has no vested interest in your work.

Many people report how much others loved their story (read: family and friends), and then I read it and shake my head in disbelief because it’s as if someone spit random thoughts onto a page, as opposed to being a cohesive story that one can follow without suspecting they’ve lost their mind. You might very well be able to find someone willing to beta read for free, but I believe in paying someone who has absolutely no connection to you whatsoever. You’re paying for a critic, and their overall opinion. You can be specific with them about what their role is. It should cost under $50-$60, and is generally less than half that, depending on the person’s experience. I have seen people hire as many as ten beta readers and as few as one. It is a relatively small investment to help you better yourself as a writer and it helps you produce a better product overall.

Some people think it’s insane to seek out a beta or three, but I have had many authors publish work and then come to me later on to ask me to beta a new project, saying they wish they had done that with their first body of work, or their second, but that now that they know more about writing, they don’t see how people can simply go to friends and family. They’ve grown as writers and want to produce a better product. I agree with them, and applaud their candor.

I do plenty of beta work. I’m extremely honest when I do it for people because I know how hard it is to get the truth out of others when it pertains to something so close to your heart. I have been lucky to always have people tell me the truth. No one has ever kissed my ass in regard to anything, leave alone my work.

Your immediate instinct might be to listen to the praise you receive and run with it, but I’d listen for the constructive criticism and the person who is honest enough to point out the flaws and give you detailed feedback. Ultimately you can take opinions with a grain of salt and a shovel full of sand, but this is a crucial step. Some people prefer alpha readers who read chapters as they are completed. I have done that for people, usually reading one chapter at a time or a dozen chapters at a time, but I prefer to beta because I don’t end up feeling like I am somehow missing some huge portion of the story that will eventually be written. I also prefer material that isn’t raw. Plus, I think it’s good to encourage new writers to complete their projects and push them in the right direction in regard to their strengths. Not only is it good karma, it’s also genuine. There is room for everyone in the community. You are not going to be perceived as my competition because the only person I have to compete against is myself. It’s my job to write what I write and write it well, just as it is your job to do the same with your work.

Writers who believe they can edit their own work because they don’t want to pay someone is one of the saddest things I see. Not that long ago a friend sent me a copy of her completed book. I was, and still am, happy for her, but I didn’t have time to read it right away. I remember reading a few pages initially and then not being able to pick it up again for a while because I was busy. Late one night, when I was unable to sleep, I decided to give it a shot. I became slightly engrossed and then reached a portion of the story that annoyed me beyond words. She’d taken a conversation we’d had years ago and used it as an idea in her story. Initially, I was LIVID. Then, the more I thought about it, I decided that she probably didn’t recall the conversation, or who she’d had it with, and had simply logged the idea in her head. I really don’t think she had any malicious intent behind it, because if she did, then why send it to me if she knew I’d see what she wrote and flip out on her? It’s not even worth bringing up, so I have chosen not to mention it when I do give her feedback on it. However, my point in all this is that she didn’t pay for an editor, she had friends beta and edit for her, and so while I was reading, I found spots where the entire thing needs to be corrected and revised. Luckily, the mistakes are minor and only a very discerning eye would notice them, but I saw them and winced because I know this book is important to her.

I had a potential client tell me she couldn’t afford me. Okay. I went so far as to offer her a reduced rate and she still insisted that I was too high (publicly she told others I had the BEST prices). Freelance editors normally charge between $1000-$5000 for their services. My rate was significantly lower, but I reached a point in dealing with her where I said to myself “I am NOT going to price myself any lower simply to get a client. I work hard, this is not a game, and I have bills to pay, just like anyone else.” She, and many others, believe they can “do it themselves”. These are the very same people who want free advice from someone with experience and don’t listen to a word you say, because they’re convinced they know it all, which is the height of ignorance.

I don’t know it all, but I have the experience. I’m not perfect, but I’m open to learning. By proxy, we should all be learning something new each day.

Some days I write. Some days I edit. Some days I cannot get out of bed. And yet, I’ve never submitted anything that might make someone want to tear their eyes out. I suspect it comes from having excellent English teachers and from not having any one, ever, gloss my work over.

I’m grateful to those who helped me perfect my voice and even more grateful to those who encouraged it. It’s one of those things that helps me spot all the diamonds and gems that might never see the light of day without the proper encouragement.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Happy Mother’s Day

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I was incredibly blessed with a mother who was my best friend. I think I required less parenting because I was “born ancient”. Every year without her is incredibly painful to me. No one could ever fill the role she played in my life, fostering my talents with honesty and care. It is because of her that I am a writer. It is also because of her that I can embrace my other creative talents with ease.

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This is a full rainbow over a place we spent so many happy times together. I suspect it might be torn down within the next year. 😦

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YA lyublyu tebya, mama. YA khochu raz ne byl tak zhestok k nam. YA zametil, chto vse fioletovyye tsvety vy poslali moy put’.

Exhausted To The Bone

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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.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Overdoing It

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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!

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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It Doesn’t Get Easier

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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!

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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