Poor, Neglected Blog...

For the handful of people who actually read this blog and have been wondering...I'm still alive! It's been well over a month since my last post, but if you read my posts in February, you might remember that I hurt my back at the end of January.

I'm not exactly sure how it happened, but I was at the mall and all of a sudden I was in excruciating pain. I've dealt with back pain before and hoped it would go away on its own, but after a week and a half, when my leg and foot started to tingle and go numb, I knew it was time to have it checked out. The emergency room doctor told me it was a bulging disc in my back, and that it should eventually heal on its own. I'm not going to harp on it, but let me tell you: the last six weeks have been a nightmare. I've run the gamut of symptoms from unbelievable pain in my back, legs, and bum, to muscle spams to partial numbness in my feet and legs. I've spent a lot of time sleeping, reading, and watching TV, and my computer time has been limited (which is super fun, especially when I'm trying to edit my third book, keep up with my book blog, and do other work...my poor author blog has been as neglected as Lost and Found). 

I finally got in to see my family doctor yesterday (he was on holidays for a couple weeks, so I've been to both emerg and the clinic in the last six weeks). I've been slowly getting better and can notice a difference every day, but I still have some pain in my right leg and bum (typical symptoms), and I don't have full mobility in my right leg or full feeling in my ankles and toes. The doctor did some leg lifting tests, as well as reflex and strength tests and seemed pleased. He said I should recover 100% - I was so relieved I almost cried! 

I'm looking forward to putting this whole ordeal behind me. I miss living a normal life, but it's made me realize a few things. I'm the type of person who believes everything happens for a reason, and I think this happened to teach me a lesson. I need to take better care of myself - I need to lose weight, exercise more, have better posture, not try to carry so many heavy things, and pay attention to how I lift things. But more than that, I think, is that I need to really start living. I've mentioned before that I don't have much of a life - being a writer and working from home have led to me being a hermit, but I know now that I need to get out and do more. I need to not take time, my health, and my mobility for granted. I haven't been able to take the bus the last six weeks, so I've only been out a handful of times (half were doctor-related outings, the other half was grocery shopping). I haven't done anything really fun in six weeks because I couldn't. It's made me realize that when I'm able to, I will. I'll go out just because I can. So even though this last month and a half has been hell, it's taught me a lot. 2013 hasn't been great so far, but I haven't lost hope. I still believe it can turn around and be the epic year I was hoping for.

I don't have any new pictures to share because I've hardly touched my camera in the last six weeks (which is killing me, but since I haven't really been out, there are only so many things to photograph in my apartment!). I'm looking forward to nice weather (and, you know, full mobility lol) so I can get outside and start taking pictures.

     

 

Stuck in a Moment

This post is something I’ve been working away at and wasn’t actually sure I was going to post until I read this post and this post by Susannah Conway. I’m among the countless people who have been inspired by Susannah. Her honesty, her bravery, her ability to be vulnerable and truthful and accessible, have made me look deeper into my own heart and mind, explore my own vulnerabilities, and try to open up and share more. And although I can do that – and have finally started to do that – in a journal, it’s not quite the same as laying it all out there for the world to see and hopefully have people understand and relate, and to come to that amazing realization that you’re not alone. Whether you’re happy or miserable or indifferent to the world, blogging has created this incredible global community of like-minded people who are exploring their own selves and talking about their journeys. 

I've been dealing with some weird, uncomfortable feelings lately. Unhappiness and uncertainty...I wouldn't go so far as to say depression, because I've experienced actual depression and this isn't as bad. It's just...a lot of swirling, negative thoughts that I don't like and don't want.

Sometimes it’s really hard to read people’s blogs, or Facebook and Twitter feeds, and hear about their happy, shiny lives, because my life is so…well, not happy and shiny. My life isn’t what I thought it would be at this point, and seeing/hearing about people taking adventures I want to take, hanging out with friends when I hardly see my friends, going places I long to travel…weddings, babies, buying houses, going to parties, having happy, quiet moments with their loved ones...all of it is hard to swallow at times. I don't begrudge these people their happiness, and I'm happy for them, but it doesn't stop me from feeling envious or occasionally feeling sorry for myself because I don't have any of that, and I want it SO BAD.

Being a writer is a lonely life. I live inside my own head so much, and even though I enjoy my alone time, I also wish I had friends around. I’m insanely lucky to share an apartment with my mum, who’s also my best friend, but there’s a double generation gap between us (she was in her 40s when she had me) and as much as I adore spending time with her, sometimes I just want a girlfriend my own age who I can go out with. I want to go dancing and go shopping and go on road trips and be silly and take a million pictures and stop worrying about all the things I need to do.

I know I’m incredibly blessed. I have a family I love, two precious nephews and a niece on the way, I have traveled even though I desperately want to do and see so much more. My lifelong dream was to be a published author, and I’m about to publish my third book. I know how lucky I am to be living my dream - not many people can say that. I love my job, I love what I do, I love getting to create worlds and people and situations, and I love that I get to entertain people, and hopefully touch them. I wouldn’t trade that for the world, but…I want more. And I don’t think it’s selfish or greedy to want more. I’m getting the career aspect of my life under control, now I want the personal aspect. I want friends and a man in my life. I want to feel that crazy, passionate, all-consuming love, and I want to be the centre of someone's universe. I don’t want to be lonely anymore. I’m tired of that almost desperate feeling I get where I just want someone to do something with. I want to leave these four walls and see what’s out there in the rest of the world, and really live. 

One of my best online friends and I have talked about the fact that we wasted a lot of our 20s. I know your 20s are a time of self-discovery and figuring things out, but it took me a really long time to figure stuff out, and I don’t really feel like I have a whole lot to show for my 20s. Mind you, it’s not like it was 10-20+ years ago, where life seemed to end at 30, and if you were alone you were clearly a spinster for life and you had to settle down in your spinsterhood and be a boring old dud. Now it seems like life begins for a lot of people at 30, or even 40 and beyond for many people. That thought gives me hope.

For the last year and a half, I feel like I’ve done nothing but work. I’ve taken a few days off here and there, but it’s mostly been work. It’s me sitting right here day after day, same routine, same view, same panicky feeling of trying to get everything done but only ever adding to my to-do list instead of diminishing it. I feel like there’s so much to do that I can’t stop. But it’s completely neurotic because among the stuff I feel I have to do is really just stuff I tell myself needs to be done. I have three blogs - now, who in their right mind has three blogs, I ask you? It’s insanity! But they’re for different purposes - I have a book blog, in which I review books, have bookish discussions, and host authors; an author blog because I’m an author and I feel like people might be interested in that process and my books; and this little blog that isn’t reading-and-writing-related, but is just about my so-called life. I also try to keep up with social media, make friends and connections online, visit other blogs (book blogs, writing blogs, and personal blogs), design graphics for my books and websites, and then there’s the procrastination like Pinterest, YouTube, etc. And then of course, there’s my actual job, which is writing books, articles, and stories, editing them, revising them, marketing them. It’s a never-ending job.

However…with all the being said…I feel like a bit of a broken record here, because I’ve mentioned this several times in the last few weeks, but I really do believe that 2013 is going to be my year. When I push aside the negativity and other bad stuff, I feel hopeful in a way I haven’t felt in a really long time. I’m ready for change, and I’m going to embrace it. I’m going to open myself up to good things - new people, new places, new adventures. I’m going to try  to take a step back and not put so much pressure on myself when it comes to work. I’m going to live more in the real world and not so much online or in my own head.

I can’t wait to be able to share fun posts and not just depressing ones (like this one). I want to be one of those people with a happy, shiny life. As I said before, I don’t begrudge them their happiness, it’s just hard sometimes when I barely remember what it’s even like to be happy. But it’s going to happen…I believe that…I have to believe that, for my own sanity.

    

September Nostalgia

I always get a funny feeling around this time of year. 

The fair was in town this past weekend, and school started today. The fair used to be a huge deal for me when I was a teenager. I don't think I ever went when I was little; at least I don't remember ever going. High school was a different story though. I live just around the corner from the fairgrounds, and my best friend Suleena and I would go every year. It was a huge deal for us. We took pains with our appearances, as if we were going somewhere fancy rather than just the fair. It was the late 90s, so there was a lot of glitter involved, as you can imagine. Temporary tattoos, too, if I remember correctly. 

We would head over as soon as the fair opened at noon, buy our wristbands, and ride the rides all day...but we only liked a handful of rides, so it was the same thing for hours on end. Neither of us minded. I can remember the smell of French fries, cotton candy, candy apples, and various other artery-clogging, sugary confections. Music blasted from huge stereo speakers, and mixed with excited screams to form the soundtrack of the end of summer. Nighttime was always my favourite time to be at the fair - all the little kids had gone home, and I loved seeing all those neon lights flashing like a glow in the dark kaleidoscope. From the top of the ferris wheel, you could see the bay glinting in the distance, and the entire city sprawled below. We would stay until closing and then go back to my place for a sleepover. We were the two musketeers in those days. It was always the two of us, no one else.

I have some really amazing memories of those days. I can't remember the last time I went to the fair. I think Suleena and I went once in college, but I honestly can't remember. After that, she had a daughter of her own, and we didn't go together anymore. There was no one else I wanted to go with, and the price of admission was a deterrent from going and simply wandering around. 

Every year now I feel nostalgic when the fair comes to town on Labour Day weekend. It feels like a lifetime ago that I was inside those gates laughing and carefree, trying to forget that school would be starting in a few days. I always had this major anxiety about the first week of school. Now it's been ten years since I graduated from high school - I can't believe it.

Time sure does fly. I'm tired of feeling like it's flying away from me, beyond my control. It's time for change...

A disappointing summer

I can't believe it's September already. The summer went so fast. I don't want to say this was the worst summer ever, because it wasn't - that title would be reserved for the summer of 1994 right after my dad died, and last summer after my grandmother died. Those were horrible summers. This summer was just...disappointing. Uneventful. Lame. 

I had high hopes for this summer. I wanted to go places and do things. Instead, I mainly stayed home, working, blogging, reading. No road trips, no adventures, nothing. I hardly saw any of my friends, and I didn't go anywhere except to the park one day, my Grama's grave on the anniversary of her death, and to see Magic Mike at the beginning of summer. That's it. I keep thinking 'that can't really be it', but it is. It seems even worse seeing it written down. 

It was pretty depressing. I don't want to sound like I'm having a pity party here, but it's my blog, and if I can't whine a little bit here, what's the point of having a blog? lol Seriously though, it makes me sad that everyone was too busy for me the entire summer. That's becoming a theme. Not only did I not see any of my friends, I hardly even spoke to them. I feel completely forgotten and unimportant. Sometimes I feel like I could take off and no one would even notice. 

It feels like this should be the time in my life when I'm out having fun, having a life, taking risks, having adventures, doing the occasional crazy thing. Instead I stay home and work because I have nothing else to do. I keep telling myself I'm getting ahead in my career and that's great, but my career doesn't comfort and hold me when the loneliness sets in. It doesn't reassure me that everything's going to be ok. I have this really intense fear that things will always be this way, but I try not to think about it because I worry it'll drive me crazy.

I don't like feeling this way. I don't like being stuck in a rut. Every day is the same - same four walls, same routine, same, same, same. I honestly don't know what to do about it. I can't wave a magic wand and make my friends care, or magically make new friends appear, or have my online friends - who are sometimes the only people who actually seem to care - live closer. All I can do is try to stay positive (I know that might be hard to imagine given the tone of this post), keep my chin up, and keep plugging away the way I've been doing. I really need a change, but I don't know what or how. I feel powerless because I honestly don't know how to change things. Something's gotta give.