Writing
Caring For Pets With Chronic Pain/Fibromyalgia
Caring For Pets With Chronic Pain/Fibromyalgia
Across the scale of Chronic Pain/Fibro sufferers, I have noticed a very high percentage of us are pet owners. I, myself, adopted a kitten last Fall. The tiny, under three pounds, kitten I brought home (see photo in the About section) that fell asleep in my lap after a few hours of being home that first night is now a rambunctious, troublesome, cheeky, full sized cat, but she’s still got a lot of kitten in her in terms of youth and spirit.
When I want to sleep, she wants to play. When she’s asleep, I’m usually working. This does not bother her, she curls up into a ball and sleeps deeply, or she sprawls out like royalty and takes over half the bed. Of course, there are also times where she’s off being a cat. She has a lot of odd little hiding places.
Initially, I ran myself ragged caring for her. She was so tiny, I didn’t want her to get trapped someplace or be afraid, especially since she’s one of those rare breeds that doesn’t really meow. After a short confinement period, she took over the entire house. The shelter told me she was my property, but I don’t think she quite sees it that way. I am pretty sure she’s got Kitty LoJack on my ass.
As we’ve slowly gotten to know one another, the daily care is minimal. I feed her, I change her water multiple times a day, I brush her (for a short-haired cat, her belly is similar to that of a medium-to-long haired cat. I can brush it daily and a ton of hair will come off. She finds this rude. Why am I stealing her hair?!), I clean her ears and clip her nails, I talk to her, and throw toys for her, because “playing fetch” is one of her favorite things to do. She runs around with a toy in her mouth, brings it to you eagerly, plops down, and then waits to see what you will do with it. And then, she’s off and running on her next fetch adventure. This can go on for hours.
She came from a very cat filled household, but since all of her siblings had already been adopted out, I decided she could be the solo kitty for a while. However, for the past few months I have been communicating with a foster parent and I am about to embark on kittens again, this time slightly older than she was when I got her. The shelter told me they feel she is the right age to accept them, but that I can return them within 21 days if things don’t work out. I’d feel terrible if she rejected them or hurt them, but they’re bonded siblings, they’ll have each other to play with if she’s being a shit for a while. I expect she will be. I expect she’ll wonder who these encroachers are in HER home, especially if Mommy is sweet to them.
In all fairness, I have been telling her about them for months. I have used soft, dulcet tones to tell her how excited she’ll be to have a little brother and sister to play with. How they’ll get to do all the fun stuff together that Mommy can’t do because she’s in too much pain. I use their potential names when I tell her about her siblings, and I try to make sure she understands that some sharing will be involved.
And then, anxiety set in. I can barely get out of bed and see to her needs each day, what am I THINKING bringing in two additional little creatures? The shelter and my vet’s office said I was “A shining example of what all adopters should be.” Color my ass surprised, and flattered. However, is this realistic? I am deeply concerned.
Strictly speaking, I fly solo in almost all things, but especially when it pertains to pet care. I may not do all of the playing, but everything else, it’s 100% Mommy. I’ve never truly had just one cat before, except as a child and much later on in life, when my cat’s sister passed away, leaving her the solo cat. That was different. This time I see my little espresso bean wanting to play, looking bored and unhappy at times, and all I can think is “She needs a friend.”
Initially I only wanted one, but I ended up falling in love with the 2nd of a bonded pair of siblings. They’re utterly adorable and closing in on six months in foster care. I am deeply concerned about my little girl A) Rejecting them, B) Acting out because she thinks she’s being replaced, and C) Hurting one, or both, of them. I’m also concerned with my health getting worse and what it will be like for me to have to handle two litter boxes per week instead of one (at least for now), feeding the little ones at meal times because they’re on a schedule and espresso bean is not, playing with all of them when I’m already exhausted from just the one, and then sleep time. The little bean sleeps when she feels like it, especially since Mommy doesn’t feel well, writes when she can, and sleeps when she’s ready to pass out. She will sleep with me when she feels like it, and other times I look over and she’s standing on my night-stand staring at me, making little chirping sounds. The little ones go to sleep each night, sleeping next to their foster mother. What will the bean do when she finds two new cats in my bed?!? Will she kick them out, act out, be violent?! This is completely and utterly freaking me out.
So, I ask my fellow pain sufferers: How do you handle multiple animals in your home? Do you have help, do your pets act out towards one another, am I just over-thinking this? I expect an adjustment period, obviously, but should I be questioning whether or not to just take one, or should I take them both and let the chips fall where they may?
A small part of me is also concerned about the adoption fees. I got the bean for a steal because she’s an all black cat and no one wanted to adopt her. Her adoption fee was so cheap, I felt like I stole her, except I didn’t, I got an awesome little friend. If I wait a few more weeks, the fees will be considerably less than if I do it now, and the truth is, I have to wait a few weeks regardless because I am already dealing with some heavy shit and that must be handled first. Only then can I handle stocking up on cat litter and their current kitten food, and setting them up for their new life with me.
Am I being ridiculous, unreasonable, unfair, or thinking this through intelligently? Please leave your comments and let me know what you think. Generally I am not an advice seeker, but I’ve been freaking out over this for weeks now and I need to make a decision soon. Is three too many, or is two more realistic?
You Never Know How Many Books You Own Until…
You Never Know How Many Books You Own Until…
Go ahead, ask me what I do at 3:00 a.m. when I can’t sleep? Apparently today, organize my bookcases was high up on the list. I have no idea why because they’re all behind my couch and I don’t look at them much, but after uncovering a storage container FULL of books I have not laid eyes on since 2008 a few weeks ago, I’ve been on a bit of a mission.
If you’re like me, it’s not enough that they be neat and organized on a shelf. No, you go so far as to alphabetize them by author, and separate them by genre. I started with the Kabbalah books and all things Judaic, and worked my way to Dark Urban Fantasy. Don’t ask me to explain that since it’s an odd order, but I can say it wasn’t long before I was six feet in the air cleaning off shelves so as to store my first edition hard covers that I love so dearly. I am currently stuck on the letter H. Mind you, I have to get from H all the way to T in order to be “done”. Then, I move on to DVD’s to accompany some of the books. I suppose it’s a good thing that not everyone has a TV show or movie right now, or I’m pretty sure I’d be doing this until the year 2020. All embarrassing books I will never admit to having read and have absolutely no knowledge of have been donated to my local library. Trust me, they made out like bandits.
If I wrote as much as I read, I’d be able to…well, never mind what I’d be able to do.
Later today I will be sore and achy from all that time spent making sure I got the books in the right order. I am still missing a lot for H and I am determined to find the missing books so that I can finish my project. I will go through the books in my bedroom next and add them to “the pile” to go downstairs. I’m sure there are plenty hidden up here, stashed away like I’ll never be allowed to have another book again.
Truth be told, someone SHOULD keep the books away from me so I can return to my own fictional world and write, like I’m supposed to. 4000 words was a nice victory yesterday, but chapter 100 isn’t going to finish writing itself, so a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do. Hit the keys, and make magic happen.
Off to work I go…
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Word Count
It’s not even 7:30 a.m. EDT and I’ve already scored 4,000 words and most of a new chapter. Is it terrible that I now want a nap after over 12 hours of work, stress, a migraine, and writing?
Addressing An Issue
I wrote something yesterday that upset someone. It might have upset more than one person, no one else said anything, but in all fairness, I did write and post it late. In reality, I know who cares about me and who doesn’t. As we’ve established, I am not an attention seeker. If I was, the drama here would be high. I really don’t have the time or the patience to be like that.
I am well aware that I am very internal, and that that can come off as me being “cryptic”. I don’t read much into that, because I say exactly what I think and what I feel. I have lost the ability of being concerned whether or not it affects someone else because my feelings are entirely my own. Most importantly, I’ve only ever seen the selfish side of the coin.
In the past, I have written about depression and suicide from a very honest stand-point, and people responded to it with e-mails that started off like this: “How could you possibly think of leaving me? What would I do without you?” It only ended up angering me. There was no “I’m here for you, what can I do?” or “I am here to listen, no matter what.”, just “How could you think of leaving me?” Those words are selfish. Being honest about your emotions is not.
It bothers people how direct I am, that there’s very little I won’t say. I find that it is important to get it out of my system, to be honest with how I feel, to be honest with myself, and if my honesty helps someone, good. I don’t sugar-coat or gloss things over. If I say I’m “fine”, I’m probably not, but you have to know me really well to hear it in my voice and know. 95% of people will hear me say I’m fine and keep talking, they are so wrapped up in themselves that my well-being is of no concern to them whatsoever. I often say I could be bleeding out of my eyeballs and no one would notice. The other day someone actually told me “I’d put a towel under you and leave you there.”, and they LAUGHED. The cruelty of such a statement isn’t fucking amusing, not by a long shot.
The last thing I ever want someone to say is “I’m sorry you feel that way.” It’s not a kind thing to say, it always comes off so dismissive, and that makes me want to rip your face off. Yeah, I’m graphically visual when I’m angry, but there’s no law against it…yet.
It comes down to this: If you accept me, please accept me as I am. If you don’t, exit stage left. Being a part of my life, however large or small, comes with its benefits and rewards, but I’m not going to fake happiness for anyone or fake my emotions. That is far more exhausting to me than the truth.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Defining Your Issues
Defining Your Issues
It’s taken me a long time to admit that my biggest issue is asking for help. I get in over my head and then I drown because I never, ever expect to be rescued by anyone. I am the kind of woman who has always rescued herself. Unfortunately, the past two years of my life have proven that sometimes, I feel like I don’t have any pride left.
There is an expression “You can never be too strong.” Yes, you can. Being “too strong”, for me, means that I would rather die than ask for help. 99% of the people in my life have hurt, betrayed, lied, stolen from, and/or abandoned me. People who are supposed to be there for you no matter what are often the ones that will fail you in the worst of times, and after a while, you stop turning in any other direction, except inward. You don’t ever sit around thinking “If only someone would help me through this…” No, you’ve always had the skills to dig yourself out of the crap you get into. Unfortunately, you find yourself angrier than a starving lion with no kill in sight when you realize that there is no Prince or Princess Charming coming on a white horse to rescue you. You’ve always done for yourself, it’s how you were raised, and you have issues breaking free from that.
I am the kind of person that actually means “Thank You.” when she says it. It’s not just polite, pretty words. If a person holds a door for you, especially in this day and age, saying thank you is a prerequisite, but you’d be surprised how many people will walk right past you when you’re holding a door and say absolutely nothing.
When someone steps up and says “I’ve got this.” or “I’ve got you.”, it feels like an Angelic Blessing to me. Right now, I need an enormous Blessing, but I just don’t feel like my prayers are being heard. I am 100% DONE. I’m done making an effort, being a good person, being a good friend, being an upstanding citizen, and taking care of things and people when it’s not my responsibility. I’m just plain DONE. I am tired of the injustice, I am tired of being told “Sorry Ma’am”, I am tired of the lies we are told about who to go to, and who will help us in bad times. Moreover, unless I am visibly over 75 years old, I should be allowed to punch you in the face until I see blood whenever someone deigns to call me Ma’am. I don’t care who you are and if you think it’s good manners, because I find it incredibly rude. You never know how badly a person needs your assistance, or how you would feel if the situations were reversed, so be kind to people when they ask for it, not dismissive and rude. Don’t ever presume you are doing them a favor by being rude, because all it does is make them angry.
I’m Lisa and my biggest problem is asking for help. I wouldn’t worry, I won’t be asking for it ever again.
P.S. NO, this is not a suicide note. Even if it were, I can count the people who would attend my funeral on one hand.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Never Give Up…
I will post some new material as soon as I break through my current “funk”. I simply haven’t felt very good these past few days. I don’t know what’s wrong, just that I feel dizzy and weak. I know my body really well, so this is not a “doctor issue”. I suspect it is a vitamin deficiency, so I will load up on the B12 and see if that makes a difference. It usually does.
Hope you’re all having a good week and that wherever you are, it’s not freezing like it is here.
Little Unknown Facts
Very few people know this about me, but I was once a Journalism Major. I had a double major (Journalism & Creative Writing) and a double minor (Writing For Television & Languages). I was constantly writing something at the time, and I still have a lot of my notebooks even though I have since moved five times.
My “Writing For Television” professor hated me, I am convinced of this. He would show us cinematic films and ask us to write our take on each one. I had some unhappy things going on in my life at the time, so I openly admit to sleeping through most of a semester. In fairness, he was showing us a lot of crap. Until one day, he brought out the Brian de Palma film that would change my life. It is, almost certainly, one of the reasons I am still a writer all these years later.
I wrote about this film’s mastery like nobody’s business. I worked my ass off. And as a reward, the professor gave me a failing grade on the paper and told me I “was ruining the other students’ work with my subject matter, had no writing talent whatsoever, and would NEVER be a published writer.” He wanted to know how I managed to get into the class in the first place. I laughed in his face, and walked out of the room smiling. This reaction baffled him, he had a terrible superiority complex. Little did he know, I was already being published, I just didn’t advertise it. I wasn’t allowed to return to the class, but that film still brings me back to why I write, and a lot of what I want to accomplish with my writing. When I write fiction, it plays out like a movie inside my head. If I can’t see it, it’s not going to work on paper.
My Creative Writing class had a similar outcome, except that this professor liked me. She liked that I wasn’t writing the same things everyone else was, that I always thought outside the box, but in the end, she too, failed me. She said I was a brilliant writer, but that she didn’t like that I was too busy writing in class to bother to take notes. Yes, that was her issue and that was why I failed. What’s the point of being creative when all a person wants you to do is take notes and study them? How is that embracing your talent?!
I slept through “Historical Writing”, but the professor was kind enough to let me make up for it by working for her a few days a week as an assistant.
Months later, I became very sick and left the program. However, I never stopped writing.
From those days to present, my work has changed drastically. Originally I wrote hardcore facts and opinions. I tackled life, death, sports, drug addiction, women’s issues, health, and grief. I didn’t venture too far out of that until 2006 when I became inspired by a particular type of fiction. Even then, it took me an additional four years before I’d sit down and try it for myself.
I still consider myself a writer of facts, and I still consider myself the same “balls to the wall” kind of writer I’ve always been, but with fiction, I find myself healing. It might seem like an odd concept, but there is a great deal of my soul in my work.
The main protagonist for the dark urban fantasy series which has some interesting historical fiction in the mix, is very loosely based off of myself. The premise of the story dates back to a story I heard repeatedly about my family as a child. I come from a multi-lingual, multi-cultural family. I don’t think any of the adults realized I understood them when they’d speak in front of me (even in English, they had a tendency to ignore the presence of children, not realizing that children comprehend far more than anyone ever realizes.), but when I did some of the original research for the story, I came to find that it wasn’t an old wives’ tale. Naturally, I embellished some of it because hey, it is fiction, and I changed many things, but I also made sure to weave a lot of truth in there as well. If you don’t know me really well, you won’t know the difference, but for me, it is freeing, enjoyable, and a happy place to visit. I like the world I’ve created. I look forward to bringing it to you when the time is right. 🙂
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Does Creativity Pay?
It’s Official, I Lack The Ability Of Dumbing Myself Down
A few weeks ago I officially signed up with an on-line Freelancing service that allows you to submit proposals for a laundry list of writing jobs, as well as other creative endeavors. Every single job that I am 1000% perfect for has either been A) Canceled because the entire project was scrapped or B) Given to someone else. I guarantee you that anyone who got a job over me dumbed themselves down in order to get it.
I’m not saying that a person that got a writing job over me is stupid. I don’t know them. However, I know that the low bid is always the one that gets the job. People can say a lot of things about me, but I’m NOT stupid.
I’m not going to apologize for placing my actual worth and value into a proposal. I have 27 years of writing experience, 19 years of editing experience, an incredibly vast array of knowledge, and if I wanted to be paid by the hour, I’d look into becoming a hooker (I’m kidding, I’m too tired to seriously consider that.).
Truth be told, if Fibromyalgia wasn’t killing me each day, I might contemplate a “normal” job at someplace like Sephora where my knowledge of fragrance, skin care, make-up, and all things beauty would be appreciated, albeit at an hourly rate. The only reason I’ve never done it is because I know I can’t get out of bed nine days out of ten and show up at a job like that. No company wants an employee that can only show up once or twice a week, that’s simply not going to fly.
Being a writer is one of those professions where people either assume you’re loaded because “J.K. Rowling made millions.”, or they assume that with magazines folding constantly and eBook sales up (Want to know how much you can be paid to write an eBook for someone else? Between $10-$125, and in many instances, your name will not be the one credited for writing it. I find it insulting beyond words. If you want me to write a book of 50 recipes and you want it in a week, you cannot come to the table with scraps. A high school student or a freshman in college might take a job like that, but an experienced writer is going to laugh at you.), you’re either okay or a step away from being on the street. People accept “Writer” as an occupation without questioning it too much, unless they don’t know a lot about what it takes to be a writer and make a name for yourself.
Since my sign-up date, I have done nothing, but write job proposals. Placing a price on your hourly rate, or your rate per 100 words, or your per job rate is tough. Like any other creative being, I want to pay my bills, put food on the table, provide for my health, and be able to breathe. If I have a rough week, I want to know that I don’t have to write my ass off this week in order to make ends meet.
So, after writing all of these proposals, I finally got a response. It seemed promising, until a little while ago when my original quote of $300 is now being asked to go down to $30-$45 a month. I understand it’s a newish business, I respect that, but here is what I am being asked to do: Monthly blog posts, creative marketing, and some creative PR packages to get jewelry into fashion magazines. That entails a lot of work, and truth be told, $300 is not my normal rate. The more we go back and forth, the more she seems to want out of me, and I have to wonder if I am simply up against the eight other people that also bid on the job, or if she really thinks that is what my time is truly worth. Regardless, she has received a sample of my work and can decide for herself. If you want quality work, don’t insult me.
After handling that, I was then sent 15 pages of a novel for another job. I have to say, I was annoyed when I got to the end because even with all the mistakes and changes that would have to be made, there was an awful lot of potential in there and I wanted to keep reading (and correct everything, because it’s force of habit!). I bid on the job. I gave a very decent price for editing a first novel, well within the person’s budget, and I will see how it goes. However, I am sick and tired of the bullshit involved.
If you want something done professionally, don’t insult the professional you’re trying to hire for the job. If you want someone experienced and intelligent, don’t expect them to waste their time if you aren’t willing to properly compensate them. Never have I tried hiring someone for something on a creative level, and then insulted their intelligence and effort by countering their quote. It’s hard enough for me to put a price on myself, but when you insult me, it makes me want to respond by letting you know how unprofessional you are.
You want something done right? Come to play, or get the fuck out of my way.
copyright © 2014 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED







