Coming Up On National Novel Writing Month
Oct. 25th, 2008 10:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
exhilarationAnd I'm seriously considering doing it this year.
I used to consider myself quite the writer. Poetry, short stories, essays, novellas, extensive journalling - even papers for school, and then not to mention writing music and trying to make some artwork as well.
I have gotten so far away from that. For a long time I've felt like my creativity has been completely drained - just, gone. Sometimes I talk to people online who I know from my old writing sites, but we have nothing to talk about because... I'm not writing. I did write a couple chapters of fanfic, but I'm not convinced that counts as real creativity. That's more like playing in someone else's sandbox, isn't it? Fun, of course, but also easy, compared to original fiction.
I have probably been depressed my entire life. I've never really questioned that. Sometimes it's really bad and sometimes it's not that bad but it's always been there. I have, however, been vehemently opposed to taking anything for it for years and years and years, because I felt like my first attempt (which I was basically forced into - I was taking the stuff before I even knew I was taking it) killed off all my creative spark and messed with my brain and my emotions. I also felt like it messed with my physical stamina, my ability to concentrate (or care) and my balance. I've had some really shit headshrinkers in my life, whatever, moving on.
This was years and years ago - in more recent years, I haven't felt like writing either. I haven't even felt like I should be writing. I didn't feel like my creativity was dulled - I felt more like I barely existed myself. It was the furthest thing from my mind.
There are certain things that I think are part of depression that don't really come off that way when, you know, it's you that's experiencing it. Like... motivation, maybe? The ability to actually accomplish necessary things? I can't begin to describe the underlying fear I had when I moved here that I would sit in this house with it falling down around me and do nothing. I'd know that there were things I had to do, and just knowing that I had to do them would make me somehow unable to do them at all.
Because I've done shit like that time and time again. I've had a lot of jobs in my life. A few I left on good terms for legitimate reasons - most I just stopped showing up for. And school? One semester I didn't go to class for the first two weeks. Two weeks? Really? That semester I did pass all those classes, because I never missed any after that, and pulled everything I could think of to even stay registered for them - "I'm depressed" usually doesn't work after you use it three or four times, and besides, schools need documentation from a professional, and a professional, see, won't really cooperate when they try to help you and you refuse their help because you hate drugs.
I ended up pulling the disability card, which, as a rule, I hate to do. It's a weird balance you have to work with, it really is. Nine times out of ten, if I really do need some kind of special accommodation for something - anything - it's the biggest run around in the world and I usually get treated like I'm being difficult or something, like how DARE I expect anyone to do anything different JUST FOR ME. Like... ah, the supermarket again. When I lived in North Philly, the supermarket had a rule that you can't take the carts into the parking lot. I'm sure people stole the shopping carts all the time. You had to pull your car up to the designated area and load your stuff there. But to do that, your car had to be on one side of the barrier and the cart had to be on the other. So, you have to either stand with your car, and reach way over the barrier to your cart and lift your stuff out, or stand with your cart and reach way over the barrier to put your stuff down.
I lived, for a very short time, with someone other than Daniel. I had a really good job and was trying to keep it, so I was living with some... acquaintances who needed a room mate. I had my old car at the time, and I (brilliantly) said, since I'm not a student and thus have more time, I would take care of the shopping (just that once.) Well I couldn't deal with the groceries and the car. I asked if I could take the cart to the parking lot. No. There was a special gate where a cart could conceivably leave the area - but that was not allowed. I even said, ok, one of the security people can come with me and make sure I return the cart - still no, that's not part of their job, they have to stay where they are. (Also, let me add - the security team wasn't really there to protect the carts - they were to protect the shoppers from violence! I've never lived anywhere else where armed guards are required at the supermarket! It seems crazy, but that's just the way it is there and I was used to it by then)
So, against my logical deduction, I pulled the car up, and couldn't get the groceries into the trunk. I asked for help - no one would help me. The security people who refused to let me take the cart to the parking lot also refused to help me with my groceries, because that wasn't their job. I went in the store to see if a store employee would help, and offered to pay them for their help, and each one said they had to get permission from their manager, and the manager said they weren't allowed to help me because they had their own work to do, and I started to talk to one guy who said he was off in a few minutes, but the manager said he STILL wasn't allowed to help me because by the time he was off he would be "too tired." I was told "ask a friend or a neighbor to help you, this isn't our job." Since I was talking to the manager, I tried asking him to let me take the cart to the parking lot, but that apparently wasn't his decision, that was up to security, and security had already said no.
In the end, I had to start asking strangers for help, which, besides being completely degrading, was also kind of scary. I mean, I don't talk to strangers, generally, and this was an area where the supermarket required a security team. Who do I ask? Who do I ask who wasn't likely to steal my groceries or my car? Who do I ask who wasn't likely to steal my groceries or my car or follow me home or ask for my number or try to feel me up and pretend it didn't happen or otherwise harass me? And besides that, everyone around me was kind of looking at me like I was "making a fuss" over nothing, so I had to wait until those people were either in the store or in the parking lot and new people started walking by.
I don't like people rushing up to "help" me randomly and when I don't need any help. I can't count how many times I've fallen down, or nearly fallen down, because someone has grabbed me because they think they're "helping" and when I'm out by myself running errands, I'm kind of in my "alone" zone and I don't want strangers coming up to me trying to interact with me in the "here let me help you" context. I know what I'm doing. Except when I don't, of course, and then need help and no one is around.
So, er, what that long story was supposed to illustrate was that the disability card doesn't work when I want it to and when it would be fair to use it. That day at the ghettomart, "oh, poor crippled me, I cannot load my groceries, someone do their good deed for the day and do it for me!" would have been acceptable - except it wasn't working.
And then on the flip side, there's the actual card, which is more like a parking thingy for the car, which I have because when I got my driver's license they asked me if I wanted one and I said okay, so I filled out all the stuff and paid the fee and got one. If ever I use my parking thingy, well, it's almost always not fair use of the "disability card." If I'm in such poor shape that I can't walk the length of a parking lot or sidewalk, well, then, I'm probably not going to fair so well inside the building either, and will likely stay home for the day. I don't need to be close to the building - it's nice, but I don't need it - and I don't need extra space to get in and out of a car, so I don't usually use the parking thing. Unless it's dark and I'm by myself and I don't feel safe parking somewhere weird and unlighted. Or, I'm with my friends and it's crowded and there IS nowhere else to park AT ALL - like in Philly where there's a blue parking meter on every block but not one single open regular meter or space for like a five mile radius. THEN I will cave and pull out the parking thingy. And usually I feel bad about it. Even though I've NEVER seen all the blue meters full, EVER.
Anyway... off on a tangent... what was I saying... I used my disability as an excuse for not coming to class, which only worked because I never had any of those teachers before I think, and it was complete BS, I had no trouble getting to school - Daniel drove me to school all semester, right to the building each class was in, AND there was a subway stop ON CAMPUS so getting to class had always been possible. I just... didn't go.
I guess I was really depressed but I was also really lazy and really... I don't know... shy? I'm not naturally shy, but sometimes when I am really depressed I get that way, like I don't want to talk to anyone, and I don't want to go anywhere because then someone might talk to me, or look at me - I never thought anyone was going to be mean to me or do anything bad to me - it wasn't like I was scared. It was just a very intense dislike of being... seen, or interacted with. Which, well, you do have to do if you go to class. And I kind of dragged myself out of it, for the rest of the semester, but not really. I mean, I went to class, but I did shit for my classwork, sat in the corner, didn't participate and barely paid attention.
This is why I never finished school or tried to go back - I'm really afraid I'd just do that again. It's a waste of money and a waste of time - those were really interesting classes I was taking and I didn't enjoy them and I didn't learn as much as I could have.
But I did and didn't realize how much this was related to depression. I thought I just sucked - I was a general fuck-up of a person. Which is even worse because I'm so smart - it's not like school work has ever been hard. It never has. School has been one of the hardest, most stressful things in my life.
I never thought depression dampened my creative drive, though. I thought it just... I don't know, went away. I didn't use it, so... it was gone. But last night at work I was kind of working through some ideas in my head - even wrote a few out - and I think I might want to try it this year, just to get back into the swing of it all. I was getting really excited - I didn't wake up all that excited this morning, but I still remember being excited last night and I still have my notes and stuff, so I'll look them over again.
It might be a really huge ego boost to, you know, try something, and actually SUCCEED. Can I write 50,000 words in a month? I am considering attempting this. I really am. I'm sure I've done it before - I used to write all the time, didn't I?
Didn't I?
Was that me?
I used to consider myself quite the writer. Poetry, short stories, essays, novellas, extensive journalling - even papers for school, and then not to mention writing music and trying to make some artwork as well.
I have gotten so far away from that. For a long time I've felt like my creativity has been completely drained - just, gone. Sometimes I talk to people online who I know from my old writing sites, but we have nothing to talk about because... I'm not writing. I did write a couple chapters of fanfic, but I'm not convinced that counts as real creativity. That's more like playing in someone else's sandbox, isn't it? Fun, of course, but also easy, compared to original fiction.
I have probably been depressed my entire life. I've never really questioned that. Sometimes it's really bad and sometimes it's not that bad but it's always been there. I have, however, been vehemently opposed to taking anything for it for years and years and years, because I felt like my first attempt (which I was basically forced into - I was taking the stuff before I even knew I was taking it) killed off all my creative spark and messed with my brain and my emotions. I also felt like it messed with my physical stamina, my ability to concentrate (or care) and my balance. I've had some really shit headshrinkers in my life, whatever, moving on.
This was years and years ago - in more recent years, I haven't felt like writing either. I haven't even felt like I should be writing. I didn't feel like my creativity was dulled - I felt more like I barely existed myself. It was the furthest thing from my mind.
There are certain things that I think are part of depression that don't really come off that way when, you know, it's you that's experiencing it. Like... motivation, maybe? The ability to actually accomplish necessary things? I can't begin to describe the underlying fear I had when I moved here that I would sit in this house with it falling down around me and do nothing. I'd know that there were things I had to do, and just knowing that I had to do them would make me somehow unable to do them at all.
Because I've done shit like that time and time again. I've had a lot of jobs in my life. A few I left on good terms for legitimate reasons - most I just stopped showing up for. And school? One semester I didn't go to class for the first two weeks. Two weeks? Really? That semester I did pass all those classes, because I never missed any after that, and pulled everything I could think of to even stay registered for them - "I'm depressed" usually doesn't work after you use it three or four times, and besides, schools need documentation from a professional, and a professional, see, won't really cooperate when they try to help you and you refuse their help because you hate drugs.
I ended up pulling the disability card, which, as a rule, I hate to do. It's a weird balance you have to work with, it really is. Nine times out of ten, if I really do need some kind of special accommodation for something - anything - it's the biggest run around in the world and I usually get treated like I'm being difficult or something, like how DARE I expect anyone to do anything different JUST FOR ME. Like... ah, the supermarket again. When I lived in North Philly, the supermarket had a rule that you can't take the carts into the parking lot. I'm sure people stole the shopping carts all the time. You had to pull your car up to the designated area and load your stuff there. But to do that, your car had to be on one side of the barrier and the cart had to be on the other. So, you have to either stand with your car, and reach way over the barrier to your cart and lift your stuff out, or stand with your cart and reach way over the barrier to put your stuff down.
I lived, for a very short time, with someone other than Daniel. I had a really good job and was trying to keep it, so I was living with some... acquaintances who needed a room mate. I had my old car at the time, and I (brilliantly) said, since I'm not a student and thus have more time, I would take care of the shopping (just that once.) Well I couldn't deal with the groceries and the car. I asked if I could take the cart to the parking lot. No. There was a special gate where a cart could conceivably leave the area - but that was not allowed. I even said, ok, one of the security people can come with me and make sure I return the cart - still no, that's not part of their job, they have to stay where they are. (Also, let me add - the security team wasn't really there to protect the carts - they were to protect the shoppers from violence! I've never lived anywhere else where armed guards are required at the supermarket! It seems crazy, but that's just the way it is there and I was used to it by then)
So, against my logical deduction, I pulled the car up, and couldn't get the groceries into the trunk. I asked for help - no one would help me. The security people who refused to let me take the cart to the parking lot also refused to help me with my groceries, because that wasn't their job. I went in the store to see if a store employee would help, and offered to pay them for their help, and each one said they had to get permission from their manager, and the manager said they weren't allowed to help me because they had their own work to do, and I started to talk to one guy who said he was off in a few minutes, but the manager said he STILL wasn't allowed to help me because by the time he was off he would be "too tired." I was told "ask a friend or a neighbor to help you, this isn't our job." Since I was talking to the manager, I tried asking him to let me take the cart to the parking lot, but that apparently wasn't his decision, that was up to security, and security had already said no.
In the end, I had to start asking strangers for help, which, besides being completely degrading, was also kind of scary. I mean, I don't talk to strangers, generally, and this was an area where the supermarket required a security team. Who do I ask? Who do I ask who wasn't likely to steal my groceries or my car? Who do I ask who wasn't likely to steal my groceries or my car or follow me home or ask for my number or try to feel me up and pretend it didn't happen or otherwise harass me? And besides that, everyone around me was kind of looking at me like I was "making a fuss" over nothing, so I had to wait until those people were either in the store or in the parking lot and new people started walking by.
I don't like people rushing up to "help" me randomly and when I don't need any help. I can't count how many times I've fallen down, or nearly fallen down, because someone has grabbed me because they think they're "helping" and when I'm out by myself running errands, I'm kind of in my "alone" zone and I don't want strangers coming up to me trying to interact with me in the "here let me help you" context. I know what I'm doing. Except when I don't, of course, and then need help and no one is around.
So, er, what that long story was supposed to illustrate was that the disability card doesn't work when I want it to and when it would be fair to use it. That day at the ghettomart, "oh, poor crippled me, I cannot load my groceries, someone do their good deed for the day and do it for me!" would have been acceptable - except it wasn't working.
And then on the flip side, there's the actual card, which is more like a parking thingy for the car, which I have because when I got my driver's license they asked me if I wanted one and I said okay, so I filled out all the stuff and paid the fee and got one. If ever I use my parking thingy, well, it's almost always not fair use of the "disability card." If I'm in such poor shape that I can't walk the length of a parking lot or sidewalk, well, then, I'm probably not going to fair so well inside the building either, and will likely stay home for the day. I don't need to be close to the building - it's nice, but I don't need it - and I don't need extra space to get in and out of a car, so I don't usually use the parking thing. Unless it's dark and I'm by myself and I don't feel safe parking somewhere weird and unlighted. Or, I'm with my friends and it's crowded and there IS nowhere else to park AT ALL - like in Philly where there's a blue parking meter on every block but not one single open regular meter or space for like a five mile radius. THEN I will cave and pull out the parking thingy. And usually I feel bad about it. Even though I've NEVER seen all the blue meters full, EVER.
Anyway... off on a tangent... what was I saying... I used my disability as an excuse for not coming to class, which only worked because I never had any of those teachers before I think, and it was complete BS, I had no trouble getting to school - Daniel drove me to school all semester, right to the building each class was in, AND there was a subway stop ON CAMPUS so getting to class had always been possible. I just... didn't go.
I guess I was really depressed but I was also really lazy and really... I don't know... shy? I'm not naturally shy, but sometimes when I am really depressed I get that way, like I don't want to talk to anyone, and I don't want to go anywhere because then someone might talk to me, or look at me - I never thought anyone was going to be mean to me or do anything bad to me - it wasn't like I was scared. It was just a very intense dislike of being... seen, or interacted with. Which, well, you do have to do if you go to class. And I kind of dragged myself out of it, for the rest of the semester, but not really. I mean, I went to class, but I did shit for my classwork, sat in the corner, didn't participate and barely paid attention.
This is why I never finished school or tried to go back - I'm really afraid I'd just do that again. It's a waste of money and a waste of time - those were really interesting classes I was taking and I didn't enjoy them and I didn't learn as much as I could have.
But I did and didn't realize how much this was related to depression. I thought I just sucked - I was a general fuck-up of a person. Which is even worse because I'm so smart - it's not like school work has ever been hard. It never has. School has been one of the hardest, most stressful things in my life.
I never thought depression dampened my creative drive, though. I thought it just... I don't know, went away. I didn't use it, so... it was gone. But last night at work I was kind of working through some ideas in my head - even wrote a few out - and I think I might want to try it this year, just to get back into the swing of it all. I was getting really excited - I didn't wake up all that excited this morning, but I still remember being excited last night and I still have my notes and stuff, so I'll look them over again.
It might be a really huge ego boost to, you know, try something, and actually SUCCEED. Can I write 50,000 words in a month? I am considering attempting this. I really am. I'm sure I've done it before - I used to write all the time, didn't I?
Didn't I?
Was that me?
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no subject
Date: 2008-10-28 09:11 pm (UTC)We could do it together. I totally whiffed last year. "didn't have time" excuse...
Still working on the internet thing, but I've been thinking about you and I'll catch up with you LJ soon.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-29 05:40 am (UTC)I don't know, i'd really like to give it a try this year... we could cheer each other on!