Newsletter part IV
WISER WORDS WERE NEVER SPOKEN.
“My life shouldn't feel this hard, right? Like I should be able to function and be successful and happy, and I just can't. I'm just…not.” For all the 'should be's' I tell myself, there's a hell of a lot of ‘I’m just not's' that accompany them.
I know this isn't a singular experience. More likely this is a prevalent experience. Which is precisely why while talking to my good friend, Laura, she reminded me: “Don't should all over yourself.” Nope, that's not a typo, though shoulding yourself and shitting on yourself often go hand in hand.
I should have finished Emmaline by now. I should have published two books last year. I should be skinnier. I should look younger. I should be a better mom. I should be content. I shouldn't be so damned depressed all the time. I should be able to go to the grocery store without fearing a panic attack. I shouldn't be hiding from the rest of the world. I should be living!
But I'm not. I can't. I won't.
Well, sometimes it's not your fault. And sometimes life is just hard. And sometimes we're all waging silent battles. (It sounds like I'm addressing the royal we, but maybe this is for me too.)
Now, perhaps you're wondering if there's a point to this email…Don't worry. I'm gonna get there, but we're gonna go through the process first, okay? Which brings me to this: The New Year. 2026.
I did not make a resolution. Not a single one. But even so, the new year came, and I felt a shift. I felt myself starting to think about writing again. About going outside for a long walk with the dog. I felt like I could go to the grocery store and meet new people without feeling like absolute shit the whole time.
And while the new year is a great time of year for rebirth and change, I don't think I can credit my changes to the passage of time. Well, maybe a little bit.
Last year, I went through hell, mentally. Mostly a hell of my mind's own making. But I tried. I tried new meds. I had a comprehensive psychological evaluation to make sure I wasn't misdiagnosed (I wasn't.) I was trapped and stuck while recovering from surgery, which could not have come at a worse possible time. At the end of November, I was feeling like it had all been a waste. The year. The efforts. All of it for naught. That may have been one of my lowest points. I felt utterly hopeless.
“I was going through the motions of life, but not enjoying any of it. I was doing nothing beyond the bare minimum. I ‘joked’ with friends at our holiday book club that I had ‘opted out of life.’
It wasn’t a joke though, it was the truth. I had stopped being a real participant in life.”
Without giving away my full medical history here, at the beginning of December, I decided to throw caution to the wind and start a new drug. I had nothing to lose. And, well, since I'm sitting here writing this newsletter…I can tell you, it's working.
I've found some relief. Finally.
So again, what's the point of all this? Right, on it. The point is this: don't give up. The point is don't should on yourself. The point is I'm a mess, but I'm trying not to hide behind it silently. The point is if you feel this way too, you're not alone. The point is that life is hard. The point is that I'm writing again.
BUT I’M NOT WRITING EMMALINE.
I'm writing for me. I'm writing what my heart is telling me to. I'm not writing Emmaline until I can do her story justice.
Feel free to send me all your hate mail. Or to chat. To tell me I'm off my rocker, but you are too.
My goal is to rejoin social media, but I'm taking baby steps on reintegrating myself into life. I'm going to get there, just not quite yet because I've got a book to write.
xoxo,
