Changed my profile.

My blog has changed since I started it almost three years ago.   Although I still write about narcissistic abuse, I’ve expanded from my personal experience of it to the national experience of it under the new president.

I also write a lot more articles that have nothing or little to do with narcissistic abuse. I find that as my healing progresses, I have little need to write about my own experience anymore.     We all grow and change, and my painful past just isn’t a place where I want to spend too much time anymore.    It happened, I dealt with it (and still deal with it because healing is a process), and now I’ve moved on to other things that concern me (but where my experience and education as a narcissistic abuse victim give me some insight into these matters — at least I think they do).

So in keeping with my new focus, I decided to rewrite my profile.  It’s shorter and I think it’s snappier and more to the point than the old one.

You also might have noticed I changed the fonts and the look slightly.  I think it’s a cleaner look.

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11 ways blogging has changed my life.

keyboard

Next month will be Lucky Otter’s Haven‘s 2 year anniversary! It’s hard to believe I’ve been blogging that long. I started blogging only 6 months after going No Contact with my ex. It has become a real addiction, but much more than that–it was a game changer for me. My life is not the same as it was two years ago. Here are ten (plus one) ways blogging has changed my life.

1. I’ve become a much better writer. I’m rather embarrassed by how badly written some of my early posts were. I think I’ve honed my writing skills and use a lot less “purple prose” and unnecessary adjectives than than I used to–that has always been a huge weakness of mine when it comes to writing.

2. I’ve become more self confident and less shy. Writing about your thoughts and feelings teaches you a lot about yourself. You become more introspective and in so doing, realize a lot of good things about yourself, and that gives you confidence. You also get validation from others, and that boosts your self esteem. You also find out that most people aren’t going to judge you for things you thought were shameful or embarrassing. It takes a while to work up the courage to write about such personal things, but once you do, you realize that your words may have helped or inspired someone else and they will appreciate you for your honesty. This has translated into my real life to some degree–while I’m still shy and awkward in social situations, I seem to be a bit more outgoing and less awkward now.

3. I’ve made some wonderful friends. Although I haven’t met any of my blogging friends, I feel like we’re a family, and for a few of you, I feel as if I’ve known you all my life. Before blogging, I felt so alone and isolated, but in the blogosphere, I’ve found so many people who have stories similar to my own, have gone through similar kinds of trauma, and we’ve grown to care abut and support each other. We’re like the surrogate family we never had!

4. I’ve become more creative. Writing almost every day forces me to consult my “muse” and the more ideas I think of to write about, it seems the more ideas just come to me, and some of them are pretty wild! I go ahead and write about those crazy ideas too, and sometimes those prove to be my best posts.

Hello world. This is my very first blog. I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing yet or how the heck this thing (WordPress) works. I’m learning so please be patient with me.

–The first sentence of my first blog post, Lucky Otter’s Haven, 9/10/14

 

5. I’m a better person than I was. Writing about your deepest thoughts and feelings, and exploring painful memories helps purge a lot of the pain that was keeping me from moving forward into real healing. Writing is powerful therapy and I find that today I’m less depressed, less angry, less fearful, have more moments of joy and serenity, and have even become more outgoing. I’ve also developed a lot more empathy, which was almost unavailable to me when I began blogging.

6. A blog is a great record of how you’ve changed over time. It’s always fascinating (and a little horrifying!) to go back and read over old posts and see how much you’ve changed. It gives you perspective and clarity. I can tell by the tone of my early posts that I’m not the same–my early posts were a lot more bitter, angry, whiny, and cynical, and a LOT less spiritual (I was agnostic when I started blogging). I realize a lot of that attitude was because I was only recently out of an abusive relationship and was still in shell shock, but blogging has definitely helped me overcome that.

7. My computer skills are better. Setting up and designing my blogs has given me more confidence in my computer skills. I can do a lot of things on a computer I didn’t used to be able to and thought would be difficult but are really not.

8. Blogging has given me a focus and a goal. All my life, I never had a real goal and never really knew what I wanted to do with my life. Narcissism and narcissistic abuse has always been my primary topic on my blogs, but lately my fascination with this subject is expanding into my wanting to help others heal, whether from abuse or from narcissism itself. I haven’t decided yet whether I will write a book or become a life coach or therapist. Maybe both!

9. My faith in God has grown. God gave me writing ability for a reason, and as I grew as a writer and shared my thoughts and feelings on an increasingly intimate level, I found myself actually listening to what God was trying to tell me, and realizing how much he really does care. I found other bloggers like myself whose faith was also strengthened through the gift of the written word.

10. It’s fun. Blogging is so addictive, and I’ve never had a hobby I’ve been more passionate about. In fact, I never really had any serious hobbies until I started to blog. I always look forward to coming home from work, opening my laptop, and starting to write, or reply to comments, or read other blogs (when I have time). I get so immersed in blogging sometimes I actually forget to eat!

11. I make a little bit of money from blogging. I can’t quit my day job, but I make about $50 a month from ads that run on this blog. It ain’t much, but it pays for my gas for a couple of weeks or a nice dinner out once a month! It’s always a great feeling to get paid to do what you love doing the most–even if you can’t live on it. But I’d blog even if I had to pay to do it. That’s how much I love doing this.

Changes.

changes

I never used to be able to relate to “positive thinking” statements.  They seemed trite and shallow, as if they were made up for other people–people with normal lives, normal families, normal incomes, good jobs, who didn’t suffer from mental illness, who hadn’t been abused by almost everyone they had known, and who had an actual future to look forward to.

Dying slowly.

When I was with my narcopath ex,  I really didn’t have a future.  Not if I’d stayed with him.  I was slowly dying a long, excruciating death–a death by annihilation of my spirit. His abuse was effecting my body, my mind, my emotions, and my soul.    Pictures of me taken when I was with him compared to pictures taken of me now show the toll the relationship was taking on me.   I looked older 3 years ago than I do now–and my depression showed on my face in every picture, even the smiling ones.  I was overweight and miserable. Even my hair looked depressed, dull and without shine. When I was told to “just think positive” I felt nothing but rage and frustration.  How could I even hope to have a better life, how could I even hope to ever be happy?   A smiley face meme, a “thought for the day,” or “inspirational” coffee mug just wasn’t going to do it for me.   And those things can be shallow and trite, but that doesn’t mean that a positive outlook is forever barred from me.  It doesn’t mean I can’t still find happiness.

 Cynicism and bitterness.

Even if I hadn’t been abused, by nature, I’m a depressive sort of person.   As an INFJ, I think deeply about things and feel them even more deeply.    I’m a worrywart who tends to see the glass as half empty.  I catastrophize and ruminate and obsess and worry about almost everything.  I get upset when I hear about wars, murders, shootings, racism, sexism, injustice, unkindness in general, and most of all, the abuse of animals and kids.  Or  the abuse of anyone for that matter.

I see all the trappings of success–big houses, late model cars, vacations, the latest this or that–and feel depressed because those things will never be mine.   I wasn’t invited to be in the Club.   I feel victimized and alone in the world.  I used to think God hated me.   I almost became an atheist–but not quite.   I always felt *some* kind of presence, but didn’t think that presence thought very highly of me.  I even thought that my purpose for existing was to be an example to others of what not to be.  I felt like I was held in contempt and condescending pity by everyone.  But what I didn’t know was I was projecting my own sense of self-hatred and hopelessness onto whatever Higher Intelligence was out there and everyone else too.    The internal voices instilled in me by my emotional abusive upbringing echoed down the years and contaminated any ability I had to find joy and meaning in life.   I became bitter and cynical, and turned up my nose at “happy people,” assuming they had no depth at all–but was it really just because I envied their ability to feel joy?

Slouching toward heaven. 

godareyouthere

When I finally went No Contact with my ex, things began to change.  Not a lot at first, but for the first time ever, I felt some hope and even fleeting glimpses of joy.   I started to blog. Writing down my feelings about what happened to me helped me make sense of them.  Through blogging, I found a community of others in a similar situation.  I no longer felt so alone.  Blogging was the best sort of self-therapy I could have hoped for.    A talent for writing was the one tool I had that began to help me be able to lift myself out of the mire.

Eventually, this got me to the point of wanting something more–an actual relationship with God.  A lifelong agnostic, I began going to church and decided to become Catholic.   I started to pray a lot more (I call it “talking to God,” which sounds friendlier).   My faith was shaky and fragile (and still is), but I kept plugging away, asking God to give me the ability to trust him and to give me faith.   If I couldn’t trust other people, it was especially hard to trust an entity I couldn’t even see.    Sometimes I felt like God wasn’t listening and had doubts that he existed at all.   But God was always someone I could turn to when no one else seemed to care.   I had no choice!   Over time, I felt myself beginning to change from within.  I began to appreciate the things I had more, instead of feeling resentful and envious of others for having more than I did.   I’ve even had a few of those rare transformative moments of  gratitude and happiness so profound it brought me to tears.

I am grateful.

I may not have a lot, but I have what I need, and that’s a lot more than many.   I don’t live in the best house in the world, but it’s a nice place to live and I like its cuteness and coziness.   I don’t drive a late model car, but I have one that’s reliable and gets me where I need to go.   I don’t come from a big loving supportive family, but I have two wonderful children who I have a good relationship with.   I can’t afford to take real vacations, but I have a car to go on short day trips.  I live in a beautiful part of the country, even if I’m jaded and don’t appreciate it as much as I used to.  I can sit on my porch and see mountains and trees and flowers and see the night sky.  I can hear birds singing outside my window.  I don’t have to look outside my window and see a back alley full of broken glass and hear sirens and people fighting all night.  I don’t love my job, but it pays for what I need and there are a lot worse things I could be doing.   I have two wonderful cats.  I have writing ability.  My blog is doing well and is not only helping me, but it’s helping others too.  I have a wonderful, empathic therapist who almost seemed to drop out of the sky at just the right time.  Lately, I’ve been finding myself thinking that my glass is half full instead of half empty.  That’s God changing my attitude in a really big way.

It’s not a smooth road.  I still get triggered and go back to my old thinking patterns.  I stil have days where I feel hopeless and unloved.  These attitudes are so ingrained in me that removing them sometimes feels like performing a skeleton transplant.  But all I have to do is lean on God and tell him I can’t handle it myself–and things do begin to look better. God is working on me, changing my attitudes, and people have said they’ve noticed a difference in me.

Big changes, bright future.

gulf_coast

I have a very strong feeling that God is planning a major change for me in the near future–a change that would give me a whole fresh start and more choices than I’ve had.   It looks very likely that in the very near future, probably before winter (my least favorite season–I hate it!) sets in, I will be moving to Florida to join my son.   I won’t be living with my son; I will have my own place.   He thinks he can get me a job where he works too.   I will be living near the beach.  I can watch the sunsets over the Gulf of Mexico every night if I want.   While I love the North Carolina mountains, they don’t speak to my soul the way the ocean does, not even after 23 years of living here.   I grew up in coastal New Jersey and New York and used to hit the beach every weekend in the summer since it was no more than an hour away from where I lived.   The ocean is in my blood. Here where I live now, getting to the beach requires planning a vacation or at least a weekend getaway since the closest beach is a five hour drive away.   I never have enough funds to do that though.  I haven’t seen the ocean since 2008.   That’s far too long.

I have no ties to North Carolina. There’s nothing left for me here–no friends, no family, no pressing commitments–so I won’t have any misgivings about packing up and leaving when the time is imminent.   I’m trying to get my daughter to come with me, because I think she needs a change too.  There’s nothing left for her here either except her dad, but he is a toxic person and her relationship with him is a codependent one.  She may not want to leave him though. She feels responsible for him.    But when and if she decides enough is enough (and I’m praying she does), the invitation to join me and her brother is always open.

I think that this move will change my life in so many positive ways.   No, of course it won’t be perfect, but I will be living near my son again, I will near my beloved ocean again, and I can make a fresh start in a new place, free of all the ghosts of my abusive past I still associate with where I live now, and which continue to haunt me at times.   I imagine myself in my little house or apartment, or sitting in front of the ocean, listening to the waves and the gulls, finally writing the book I keep saying I’m going to write.   And I’ll thank my Heavenly Father every day for presenting me with such a positive life changing choice.   I never felt like I had choices before.  Now I think I do.

Why God has waited until now, I don’t really know,  but it’s probably because I wasn’t ready.   I wouldn’t have appreciated it.  Maybe he wanted me to appreciate the things I already have first, before blessing me with new opportunities.    Now, when I see positive thinking memes or inspirational quotes, I actually pay attention.   Yes, they are trite and can be shallow and annoying when nothing else of substance is being given, but they do seem to have more meaning now.  Is that because I feel like God is finally smiling down on me so I can relate to them better, or is it because I’ve changed enough to pay attention?

Little gifts.

God shows up at the strangest times.  Earlier today I was at the Laundromat, and as I waited for my wash, I found a small devotional book called “Fear Not Tomorrow, God is Already There,” by Ruth Graham.  It was sitting right there on the table, on top of a bunch of advertising circulars.   A few years ago I would have left the book there.  Today I took it home with me and said a small prayer of thanks.  I know God left it there for me on purpose.  I’ve realized he is always trying to show you in small ways how much he loves you, but if you’re not paying attention you won’t notice.    If you open your heart to God and just talk to him, like you’d talk to your best friend or a loving parent, your heart will begin to change and your faith will grow stronger in tandem with that–and then it’s possible your whole life might take a turn for the better too.  It’s so simple–how did it take me so long to see this beautiful truth?  I feel in my bones that the last half of my life is going to be when the harvest comes in–a harvest rooted in the pain of my past.

Is there a reason why we suffered so much?

student_teacher

One last thought.   There’s an old Buddhist proverb: “When the student is ready, the teacher will appear.”   Everyone who ever touched my life has been a teacher to me. Yes, even the narcissists.   Maybe especially them.  If it weren’t for them, I would not be who I am today.  I don’t think I would be as deep or as spiritual or value empathy and kindness as much as I do.   I don’t think I would have the same sort of relationship with God.  Many of the most spiritual (not necessarily religious–that’s a different animal!) people I know came from abusive backgrounds.   They suffered terribly and carried that heavy spiritual load all their lives, then finally turned to God because there was no one else.  In pain there comes much wisdom.     Maybe God allows some of us to experience more adversity so we learn to lean on him instead of other people–and then when we learn to trust him, he finally blesses us with people who can help us and love us unconditionally.   No, we should never have been abused by our narcissists.  It definitely wasn’t fair.  But out of that kind of adversity we can learn so much about ourselves, about human nature, and even learn to help others who suffer like we did.   And that is my greatest wish now–to help others heal.

A reflective trip into our common past.

My son said he’s spent today feeling reflective and wanted to revisit some of the places he knew as a child, including the home he and his sister were raised in by us.   Compared to the last two days, which were fun and active, today was quieter and more reflective  for both of us. It was also very healing and put a lot of perspective onto things.

So we took the 20 minute drive to where he grew up, parked the car and just walked around looking (without trying to look too suspicious!)   Our old house has fallen into disrepair (I don’t know if anyone lives there) but back in 1993, just after we purchased the house, we planted some trees.

We had this nutty idea of importing 30 tiny Canadian redwood seedlings from a company in British Columbia, Canada.   I remember we had to wait a while for them even after they shipped, because first they had to pass some kind of inspection in Florida to make sure they were free of aphids and other microbes that they might have been carrying from outside the US.   I remember when we finally got the seedlings, I had to keep them in a tub for a few days to moisten and soften their roots before planting them.

Redwoods are not indigenous to North Carolina, but we did some researchh and found out the moderate humid climate here is actually conducive to their growth, which is why we took a chance on them.   Over the years most of the seedlings died, and when the house was finally sold (well, actually foreclosed on) in 2003, the next owners chopped most of the surviving redwoods (about 5 or 6 left) down.  I remember being so enraged by that.   At the time the doomed young redwoods were about 8-10 feet tall.

But there is one last survivor, a beautiful, majestic redwood that is now 30-40 feet tall and looks very much at home among the small grove of other large trees that were either non-existent or very small when we bought the house in 1993. Here is that redwood as it is today.   It’s hard to wrap my head around the fact that twenty-three years ago it sat in my tub upon arrival encased in a root ball with a plastic bag tied around it.

redwood2

redwood1

redwood_bark

Closeup of the bark–beautiful, red and burled.

I got photos of the rest of the trees (the ones I was able to–I didn’t want to be caught trespassing), all so much bigger than they were in 1993 or even ten years ago.     Here’s a cherry tree that was very tiny, barely more than a sapling,  but is now a huge shady tree big and sturdy enough to support a tire swing.   When my kids were little, the tree was too small to climb, but they used to pick caterpillars from its bark and collect them in a bucket (to be released outside later, as per my instructions.)

cherry_tree cherry_tree2

View of the property as it is today.  It was quite bare and almost treeless when we moved in.  You can see part of the house on the right.  The pink magnolia directly to the left of the house I planted there as a tiny seedling in 1996.

Here is a closeup of the magnolia:

magnoliatree

One of the many pine trees showing off its huge sturdy trunk:

pine_tree

The tree pictured below was the only one that was already big when we purchased the property in 1993, but it’s at least twice the size now and wide enough at the bottom to make a perfect fort for kids to play under.  Hell, I used to go sit under that tree to escape from my then husband!  Sometimes I even read books under there.

pine_tree2

2 views of the remains of our old outbuilding.  The roof has collapsed.  My son and I are both attracted to the eerie beauty of abandoned buildings.  Seeing the shed we used to store our gardening equipment and other things in was a little bittersweet.  I didn’t dare go inside.

abandoned_shed1  abandoned_shed2

A nearby “bamboo forest” growing behind the elementary school my kids attended.  It wasn’t there then.  Bamboo may be an invasive weed in this country because of its lack of natural enemies to keep its growth in check, but I find it beautiful.   I find the same to be true of Kudzu, which also grows here.

bamboo_grove1 bamboo_grove2

Finally, a view of our old neighborhood from the top of a nearby hill:

hightop_view

My son is flying back to Florida in the wee hours this morning.  I’m going to miss him, but I feel so happy we had such an amazing time together.

Tomorrow I’ll be able to return to blogging as usual.   I’ve been so busy the past few days that keeping up has been difficult.  I didn’t even have time to post a Monday Melody, but I promise there will be a new one this coming Monday.

I’m not making any New Years resolutions.

2016_newyear

It’s hard to believe, but I’m entering my third year since ousting the narcissistic psychopathic ex from my life once and for all. So much has happened since then. The other huge change I made in 2014 was starting this blog, which has proved to be powerful therapy.

In 2015, I shifted my focus from the narcissists in my life to my own behaviors and realized that to find happiness, I needed to change. Blogging alone was no longer enough, and so I entered actual therapy–the intensive, psychodynamic type that makes you dig deep into your distant past, not just behavioral therapy like CBT or DBT (though those certainly do work too). I’m seeing some patterns that are so obvious to me now, I can’t believe I didn’t see them before. Tonight was probably the most incredible session I’ve had so far, and I’ll be writing about it later. This has been one of the best decisions I ever made, and I couldn’t have asked for a better therapist.

I’m not setting any New Years Resolutions, because those have a way of getting forgotten or abandoned. I’ve never kept a New Years Resolution, ever. But I have a feeling 2016 is going to be a great year with or without resolutions. Right now, I’m just feeling incredibly grateful at the shape my life is taking and the discoveries I’m making on this healing journey. I’ve surrounded myself with people and situations that are good for me and are helping me grow. That’s something new for me. I always surrounded myself with toxic people before. No more! Those days are long gone.

Have a safe and happy New Year and an even better 2016!

Getting the spare room ready.

room_for_rent

The weather has improved significantly (lots of sunshine) so I’ve had a little more energy and my mood has been slightly more upbeat. I’m incredibly sensitive to the weather due to my SAD.

Last week I was depressed about my roommate moving out, even though most of the time she got on my nerves. I think it triggered some abandonment issues for me. Today I actually got a burst of energy and cleaned up the room for whoever moves in next. Stacey had already done a pretty good job cleaning the room before she left, but it needed a lot more attention. So I vacuumed the floor, and also the walls and ceiling (lots of cobwebs), scrubbed the baseboards and woodwork, and put a new set of sheets I’d bought last weekend on the single bed. This weekend I want to purchase a small rug, a comforter for the bed, and maybe a plant to make the room look more inviting.

The rooms’s pretty basic (not really worth posting a photo of) but it’s clean now and for what my new housemate will be paying, they can’t expect a whole lot. But I think when I’m done sprucing it up, I’ll be proud to show it.

I’ve been feeling lonely in this house alone, and I’m actually getting excited about having a new housemate. A gay man I’ve spoken to seems the most promising so far. I felt comfortable talking with him over the phone and he has a steady income (he’s a forklift operator!) I’ve been avoiding calling back most of the other people who’ve shown interest so far, and I think it’s because I’m holding out for this guy. He’s coming on Saturday to see the room.

I still won’t blog about my secret, but…

emptybook

I did tell one person, a very good friend of mine–another blogger in the psychopathic/narcissistic abuse community, the exact nature of my secret. My confession was satisfactory enough to ease the itch I had to blog about it. She advised me not to, for basically the same reasons I had for not doing so.

We Aspies sometimes don’t say things even when we should. We know how awkward we seem to others and feel like it’s better to stay silent than sound like idiots, especially in the real, flesh and blood world of face to face communication.

Other times we say too much, especially on the Internet, a place where Aspies and INFJs and INTJs like myself abound (I’m either one of those depending which Myers-Briggs test I take), because we feel more comfortable socializing behind the anonymity of a computer and like the fact we can edit what we say before we say it. But there are times we Aspies still can get carried away with our candor and our filter goes on a Caribbean vacation. We just don’t know when to STFU. And we can find ourselves in a world of trouble because of that failure to censor our real feelings.

Back in 2008 and 2009, I was an active member of a certain entertainment related forum. At first I was a respected and popular member and then my virtual mouth developed a bad case of diarrhea. I had developed a crush on a person on the forum and was way too honest about it. Inevitably, a group of bullies and trolls on the forum smelled blood. They decided to use me for target practice, and soon even regular members started to join in. I was openly mocked and even started having problems with the forum administrator. I was nearly banned but wound up leaving of my own accord because posting there was no longer fun. My username became a pejorative, and to my horror, when I Googled my username, I discovered I was being quoted and mocked on two different but related sites, and their members were having a field day making fun of everything I said. I was mortified. It was as bad as being the school pariah all the bullies went after. It didn’t matter that I was essentially still an anonymous person on the Internet and no one knew my real name–I hadn’t felt that shamed or embarrassed since my days as the school dartboard.

The secret I have is actually not what it appeared to be at first. Now I understand the real reasons for it, and to my relief they are normal, healthy ones. It was really a springboard to something else. Strange things happen when you begin to journal publicly about something so personal as narcissistic abuse. One important side effect of blogging was I developed a closer relationship with God, who I rely on now to guide me in all my decisions, including what I blog about. I have prayed about this thing, this secret–and God is providing me with answers–including one I never expected.

An idea is beginning to form in my mind, an huge idea that could totally change my life and maybe the lives of others as well if I play things smart. Or it could lead to nothing other than an interesting venture into unknown territory. Doing this thing requires self-discipline, hard work, passion, and dedication. I’ve never stuck with anything before. I’d become intensely interested in something, and then drop it when it became too hard or frustrating, or when my interest in it burned itself out. That’s one of the reasons I’m still floundering through life like a teenager even though I’m over 50.

That’s all changing. I’ve stuck with blogging now for three months and show no signs of stopping. I’m passionate about blogging. It’s my new drug of choice. Because it’s become so much more than just a way to journal publicly about my experiences with narcissism. Watching my blog do so well and watching it grow and knowing it’s helping others besides just me is raising my self esteem so I no longer hear my N mother’s accusation of “loser” or “you can’t succeed” bouncing like a poisoned ping pong ball inside my brain anytime I tried something new. My entire viewpoint on life is different. I feel like I can do things, accomplish something important, and even help others while I make myself happy. Hey, I might not even have to remain poor and underemployed the rest of my life, something I had actually become resigned to. For years I’ve taken it for granted that I would die in great pain, alone and destitute, and no one would care.

There’s a certain topic related to narcissism I desperately want to write a book about. After I wrote my “Secrets” post, after a few days this book idea began to form. I tossed the idea around in my head for a few days and am waiting for some further information before I start, but even if I don’t get the information I’ve requested, I still want to write the book. It will make it harder but I can still do it. I feel like it’s something I must do, but not only that, I’m convinced it’s also what God wants me to do. I have no idea what his reasons would be for my writing this book, but then again, God doesn’t usually explain his reasons. It isn’t until later on that we find ourselves surprised to be in places we never dreamed we’d be in our wildest fantasies.

I have a good feeling about this. Not an unrealistic, grandiose fantasy that never sees the light of day because you either don’t have a real passion for it or have no practical plan to carry it out–this time it’s a real plan that I know I can fairly easily turn into reality. I think I can stick with it this time too, because it’s where God has been trying to lead me my entire life–but I couldn’t hear him because of all the noise inside my head.

The last time I wrote a book–a novel–I made the mistake of letting my MN mother read it. She hated it, so it went in a box in the back of my closet and I didn’t write another thing (except forum posts) until I started this blog. Recently I pulled the manuscript out of its box and read parts of it. It really was cringe-worthy, but in 2003 I was coming from a very unhealthy mental space and besides, fiction writing isn’t really my thing, so.

I know this post doesn’t make much sense, because I’m trying to write about something obliquely and it’s hard to be clear when you’re being oblique.

But the important thing is I have decided to use the writing ability God gave me and use it to write a book about something I’m deeply interested in. I still have self doubt, a lot of it, but I won’t let anyone or anything let me give this up.

PS: my laptop was acting weird while I wrote this, and I just realized I typed the whole thing in airplane mode. 😀