Posts Tagged ‘writing’

Writing a Book

I am convinced that it is what I need to do. I am working on a book that will touch on a variety of my life experiences that I occasionally ramble about that consistently lead people to look me dead in the eye and tell me that I need to tell my story. I’ve been told this by “Intuitives” who read this in my Chakras, friends, strangers, and many many more. I have held back in part because the sheer amount of intense stories I have intimidate me.

Anyway, I have gotten started and already had to stop, at least for today because I got to a part of my life that I do not have clear memory of. I have lots of random ‘scenes’ that pop up but don’t clearly fit together in my head. It is an interesting challenge to make a story out of the past with this kind of memory. At this point I am going to be digging for some of the old journals, though I know these do not tell the whole story, this part of my life I had no privacy and my journals were being read by other people daily and so were written in a way that they would be reading what I interpreted as content that would get me out of the situation. It had nothing to do with what I was really thinking and feeling in other words but I am hoping that it will still trigger some kind of memory so I can tell the story.

If the journals don’t help then I plan to write all those little excerpts and maybe that is how I will write them, it will be a kind of random set of memories that can be read as I remember them and maybe writing them like that I will find some kind of structure, I figure if I don’t then it just means they are meant to be communicated like this though.

I will also soon be writing some other ebooks with my husband for our other new site “A Niche To Scratch” as we are working together to help people to do what they are driven to do, and monetize their niche in life through the internet in ways that make sense.

Back to the life stuff though, I am thinking I might have to scan parts of the journal to put into the book as well as pictures.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving, I sure did. I was home with my girls and my husband who did ALL of the cooking in a wonderful couldn’t be better way. We did a little video of what we are grateful for and everything. Loved it as it was the best Thanksgiving ever, no pressure, no drama, all love. We spent the rest of the weekend having fun visiting family and running errands, it ended too soon.

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A Perfect Nightcap…

Intensity seems to bear little children that can just gnaw at us. For me, the loudest of these little rascals is on my right arm. From the middle of my forearm to the top third of my upper arm, the part of the arm that the sun can see if I’m wearing a tank top, I am feverish. That feeling, when one has a fever and the skin is very sensitive, painful even to touch is what I mean by feverish. It came about today, and I’m hoping it just stays where it is and fades away rather than spreading through any other part of my body.

Whenever this happens, I take an inventory of what might have caused it. Usually the first things that come up are the stressful elements in my life. Yesterday my 6mo baby got vaccinated. Debates about this topic run rampant, and up until about a week ago, I was not one of the people who supported vaccinations. Fears run rampant on both sides of this debate which does not help someone like me who is looking for a true journalistic overview of the pro’s and con’s. I believe this is because the research is lacking but I won’t go into all that now. I did decide to do it and another article I wrote earlier today details that so I will move on.

Over the past 3 weeks, I have been getting used to a new diet as well. My ND did a lot of tests on me, tests I had never had done before using hair and blood samples to test my nutrient levels, allergies, and other stuff related to that. I found out that I am very reactive to a variety of foods, most common of course are the gluten, eggs, dairy, soy, and a surprising number of nuts and grains. Point being, my diet has made a major transformation recently. Even more so when you add in some of the other variables, like how deficient I was in certain things like Lithium, Potassium, Sodium, and I was told that even my Cholesterol was too low even for my body to replace any myelin that my immune system might have taken a bite out of. So the closest mainstream diet to describe what I can eat is the Atkins, though I’m not eating beef, eggs or dairy. Point being, it is frustrating that despite all these good changes, my arm feels funny. Interesting too is that the nutrient deficiencies have symptoms (as seen in the links) that are virtually the same as any symptoms that I have experienced with MS.

Another new part of my life is this monthly infusion that I started last week, and will be getting monthly for at least another 6 months called IVIG. My experience getting started with that was a good one, almost scary, but someone figured out that some of the math was wrong before it became an issue.

Money is still a stress as well, applying to jobs is difficult when I am distracted with the number of doctors appointments and problems on my plate. I’m a few months behind on daycare, and while it is tempting to pull her out, at the same time I certainly won’t be more productive and say a job does come through, that would be a whole new challenge in itself. Not to mention my work involving my passion of building and growing the online MomsWithMS project I started a few months ago, it feels like my destiny and anything taking me away from that, my kids, and telling my story feels like an interruption. Fortunately my husband has had some good leads for jobs which is exciting for both of us. Though when the water heater broke (2 days ago) it was comical how close to being ‘out’ of money we were.

Painting is something that can benefit our situation a lot. I am a graduate of Parsons School of Design and even since before I attended that school, painting has been a way for me to express what I couldn’t communicate with words. I’m working on improving my written language but I am absolutely enjoying the painting. It is funny though, because I decided the other day that what I should do, is paint some paintings with my daughter involved somehow, and sell those on etsy. I have 2 that we have gotten started with, just little 12in x 12in squares with our hands outlined and some different colors of paint. I have not listed nor completed the paintings though because they are so directly coming from my heart that it hurts me to think about sending them to someone else. Though that is the reason we worked on the paintings together was purely to sell them, and she was supportive and actively participating with it, I have a hard time, because for me they are a part of our story, and they are so personal, so impactful to me.

I’ve been told that I’m lucky, and to a point I agree, in the way that I don’t really ever let any of this ‘really’ get me down. I am going to keep working on these paintings, maybe I’ll have to save the first two, and then make some new ones to sell. I have about 6 more mounted canvas to work with and lots of beautiful paint. I’m going to keep writing until my story comes out as well, which I’m just getting started with but I’m having a blast.

I have a secret too…even though I love my peanuts and honey wrapped in a whole wheat tortilla, (my favorite snack that it turns out I’m allergic to), I am loving my limited diet. Most days I’m only eating 2 meals a day, either because I am full for that long from eating Amaranth Meal and Bacon, or because I can’t find anything to eat and coffee keeps me going for a pretty long time by itself. I’m also lucky because my husband actually is enjoying the challenge of making a more limited selection delicious for all of us. Tonight we had some delicious salmon, rainbow chard, cauliflower with my favorite mushroom dressing on it, and some acorn squash that I put cinnamon and blue agave nector on. That would have been enough tonight, but it wasn’t this time, I was pacing through the kitchen wracking my brain to think of something sweet I could munch on. I was fantasizing about some dried dates or something similar to stave my sweet tooth.

Then…I remembered what I bought, for just this kind of a starving sweet tooth moment. See, there is a store here in Seattle (maybe elsewhere too, I don’t know), called PCC. I have been joking about how it went from my favorite, to my only place to shop for food since learning about my dietary limitations. Last time I was there, though I tried to focus on the staples, this little canister caught my eye…pure organic cocoa powder. So my husband and I dug until we found it, and then I followed the directions using my coconut milk, (almond, soy, and dairy are off limits, rice is limited as well), and then added some blue agave nector to it made the absolute best hot cocoa ever. Even better, as the milk was heating on the stove, I found a knife and cut an avacado in half, which I sprinkled salt on and ate before I was drinking any of the cocoa.

Salty satisfying avacado to prepare for the ultimate chocolate indulgence was amazing. Next time I’m going to add a little cayenne pepper though. I used to go get a good spicy mocha all the time at a local coffee shop here but my wallet has told me to not do that so much. Making it was such an ultimate indulgence that maybe some people feel when they cook as well, just knowing exactly what I was putting together, and knowing exactly what I would/could change if the flavor wasn’t quite right was divine.

It was the perfect nightcap.

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I Hope They Meet Me Someday

I’m sitting here with my 5 month old baby girl in my lap. My almost 4 year old was dropped off at her Pre-K class just a few hours ago. My tears are dripping onto my sleeping baby’s belly as I type this.

Boring is a word that I don’t remember using since I was about 12, maybe 11. My dad used to gleefully tell me how I was acting ‘so eleven’ which is what I remember most about that year so I probably was bored then. Since then though, and now, my life has been chaotic.

In my mind, and out of my mouth, anyone who knows me is well aware of these patterns I’m sure. I constantly am spewing the desires I have for a ‘stable’ or ‘secure’ life with ‘routine’ and ‘predictability’ however I’ve never experienced any of this!! I tell myself that ‘as soon as I/we get through this, things will be normal‘ though it doesn’t happen, even I wonder if I really want it? I think I do, but if I look at all that I do, do I really want that?

Maybe I do want that, consciously but unconsciously I have ‘programs‘ (as my Klemmer trained husband calls them) that are against this, and insist on keeping the chaos rampant in my life. I haven’t been through that program, maybe I will someday and then I’ll understand, at this point I don’t though. I am too busy chaotically living my life of chaos trying to make it calm down enough to learn what this word ‘relax’ means, because right now I don’t know.

My biggest fear is that my daughters will only know me as this high strung multi-tasking fake “normal wanter” who can’t seem to figure out what the words normal or calm really mean. It’s clear that my family, dysfunctionally raised from an established military upbringing thinks I’m nuts, or have such unrealized potential.

For me the concept of normal is about as foreign as this flying spaghetti monster I hear about.

For me sending my children away so I can go repetitively do the same thing over and over and over again sounds like pure insanity, I don’t understand the appeal. I haven’t been able to get a job anyway though so it’s not like that is a real option.

What I really want, is for my life, to make sense. Just a little bit of sense. Right now everything is a mess, I feel like an interruption to the world around me. My daughters watch me feverishly accomplish nothing spending my time online, while I explain that I’m trying to make money to make things better though nothing happens to support this.

I agree enthusiastically when people tell me I should write about my experiences, my experiences being sent away as a child to survival camp, running away from boarding school, MS, 9/11, stroke, and the abusive relationship that created my beautiful little girl and that I left behind etc. etc. but have I written? I have written a little bit, here and there but enough for a book? No. Do I know how to get started? I know I need to write, but I don’t know what comes after that. Do I try to take care of myself even? Yes, though I don’t think I’m doing a very good job, I’m getting medical treatment to feel better but all of that is leading to piles of bills that just remind me I’m broke. Then I start working, or writing, and then my daughter cries, or wants to be picked up, to drink mommy milk, go outside, or eat some food.

And it feels like I’ve failed, either at the working and writing by attending to their needs, or at mothering by spending time writing or working.

Balance is another word I need to become more familiar with. Maybe after I meet, my balanced self, I will be able to introduce her to my little beautiful girls who deserve so much more in a mom. I know she is in here somewhere.

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