It’s chilly here. We’ve entered the time of the year where it’s cold enough at night you wonder if you need another blanket, yet warms up during the day to where you want a tank top! I think there’s a predicted 40 degree difference between the low and high today.
I’ve had a hard week. Something happened that I can’t discuss, not yet. It wasn’t good. It forced me to take steps I didn’t want to take, ever.
I’ve spent the better part of the week either deep in the revisions of ‘Scales & Stingers’ or trying not to look over my shoulder. I’m not one that’s prone to depression. Anxiety? Most definitely.
I am, by nature, an optimist. I believe the best in people, for the most part. I have trust issues, certainly. Especially when it comes to men. If I say I trust you, you’ve earned it. But I like to think other people will treat me with the kindness, respect, and consideration I give them.
When that doesn’t happen….when I reach a point where I cannot conceive there is any hope left for me to have even a civil relationship with someone (even a complete stranger)….it hurts my soul.
I don’t like giving up. Whether it be on my writing, my job, or putting together a desk. It doesn’t matter if it’s a person, a pet, or a monster during a fight in D&D. I want to see it through, push harder, and get things where they’re right. It’s why I spent most of my writing time over the last month revising a book. It’s why I cringe when I see people not wear masks. It’s why I cry when something or someone who’s touched me deeply ends in some way.
That sums up the last week of my life. I wasn’t depressed, but rather I was grieving a loss.
This morning, I woke up as I normally do. Muse laying on my chest, gently pawing my face, so I’d get up and give her treats or feed her. But I also realized the sadness had left me. I saw the beauty of the berm behind our house full of wish-ready dandelions shrouded in a dawn drenched mist. I heard the hope in the birdsong, as they called out to the rest of their flock.
And I knew my words would flow today.
With what’s going on, I remain vigilant. I hope to share more with all of you soon enough, but now is not the time. I have friends, people I consider family, reassuring me. Letting me know they’ll be to me as soon as they can if I need them. I know my job has my back.
To me, life is in constant motion. It’s not a stagnant pool. It’s vibrant, moving. Some river beds are smooth. And then you’ll reach a waterfall and crash. The strong aren’t crushed at the bottom. They rise up and keep moving forward.
BB/Chan Eil Eagal Orm