Tag: Books

Thriving In Action

This is my mission statement for 2026:

One of my action items to prove to myself I’m thriving was to have quarterly get-your-ass-out-of-the-house things to do. My first one was Between the Lines. A play in Castro Valley, CA which was directed by a coworker at One Medical. It was a sweet story of a girl trying to fit in and the characters in a book who were refusing to let that happen. It was a sweet story that touched on some deeper subjects like the importance of fathers in their child’s life and a single-mother’s struggle when he doesn’t. The importance of friends and acceptance in life. But in general, it was fun, well thought out and staged. I walked away from the play lighter of heart and desperate to be able to see better.

Saturday, the 23rd. I singed up to go see Mandalorian and Grogu with a theater full of rabid Star Wars fans. People dressed up and strangers talked to strangers. I won a trivia book for all the Star Wars movies. I am a fan of anything space based, I realized. I loved the TV show The Mandalorian because I would come home from work exhausted and sit on my bed and watch and episode or three and Sammy, who was pissed off at me because I was gone the whole day, would sit on the bed and watch with me. Not cuddle, just watch. I think she had a crush on Grogu: he was small and green too. It endeared the show to me. And the violence. I do love me some fictional, unrealistic violence.

I’m already planning my third outing, I want to go to the opera for my birthday. My birthday being in the middle of the quarter. I can’t afford the choice tickets my friend used to buy but I’m going to go to a matinee on a Saturday and hope there will be tickets available for the cheap seats at cheaper than face value prices. There is Manon and Tosca coming up for that time frame. I’ve seen Tosca but not Manon. I’m looking for a CD player at thrift stores so I can prep by listening to the CDs. I don’t use a streaming service and I mostly listen to books in the car, so my life has been something of a musical desert. I love the way Opera makes me take deep breaths with the arias and then float away on the high notes. It’s very calming.

I realized I’m picking outings where we are all there for a uniform experience. I’m not really ‘socializing’ but going somewhere without someone is a really big step for me. My sisters don’t like musical theater and science fiction/fantasy doesn’t really interest them. The difference between the the first two is the opera will have alcohol, which adds a scary element in the mix for me. I really never figured out why. You just can’t trust people when they drink. There is no argument you can make that will make me believe otherwise. But we are all still there for a civilized cultural experience. My last one might need to be to a Faire (Ren, Dickens or Psychic) where everyone is doing what they want and I need to participate in something other than shopping. If I don’t get a job any time soon, I won’t be able to participate in anything at all. (Sigh).

I’m proud of myself. Even if these are baby steps compared to what my life used to be when I was younger and not terrified of the outside world. I’m happier and safer in bed, but that’s not how life is lived. It’s not how to thrive.

Reality Schism

I’ll admit it, I’ve been struggling. I’ve been fighting the good fight for weeks but today the void is sucking me back in. Yesterday I realized I was doing it to myself and I need to stop…..but I’m having too much fun!!

I’ve been free writing again. I’m blissfully living in the space between my ears. I broke one book I wrote (Heart of My Mothers) into a trilogy. The original was too dense because I wanted my character to grow and experience life adjacent to the plot. My readers liked the story but it was suggested I break it up into three books so I could bring in more detail.

  • Book 1 Andi (Mother): Is ready to be sent to an agent or publisher, I just have to create the query letter and do it. It terrifies me I’ll do it wrong. Wrong means I fail…..again,*
  • Book 2 Veronica (Grandmother) : Is written and needs editing….like Edward Scissorhands level of editing, which magnifies my skewed reality I can’t write perfectly the first time around.*
  • Book 3 Claire (Great Grandmother): Free writing where even the original book isn’t a reference and anything can happen. I’M LOVING EVERY MINUTE OF IT.

The problem? I still have to live in reality. I still have to drag myself out of bed every day and face the world. I still have to take my medication. I still have to apply for jobs. I still have to go on interviews. I still have to remind myself death isn’t a solution.

This morning, by the time I convinced myself to get up (It took an hour today), take my meds and feed my bird I was crying. My reality is just really hard right now. I’m looking for glimmers, I’m walking more than I have to (goal is three times a week) and I still feel like I’m failing. Failing crushes me.*

My character isn’t failing. She fabulously wealthy, she’s popular and she’s the hero in her own story. I’m poor, few people know my name and I’m trying hard not to be the villain. Is there any doubt why I want to live there?

So, right now I’m straddling these two worlds. The endorphin rush from creation strips the serotonin on my brain. Low serotonin makes me want to escape into the story. I don’t know how to heal the schism without tearing me in two.

So I bought yarn.

Any suggestions?

* I know this is wrong thinking. I feel like Sisyphus constantly pushing the right thinking up an impossible hill only to get flattened when the rock rolls over me.