Here we are again, time for a weekly chat about life and love and all that jazz. I’ve had a lot going on recently and most of it has been pretty good. Which is why the darker things always seem so dark they’re suffocating. It’s been a period of a change for me, at least on an emotional level. I’ve had charges levelled at me that are patently absurd, yet somehow the fiction seems to be accepted as fact. If I had half the “power” I’ve had subscribed to me, I’d be a phenomenal success at the moment. Reality is, I’m struggling daily just to find a reason to keep going.
A lot of you have known me publicly for a long time, and most of you know virtually nothing about me personally. It’s funny how that gets to be part of the allure for some people. I’m not going to reveal all here, but I will tell you a little bit more than most of you know, perhaps it will give you some perspective about who I am and why I am often such a bloody bitch about making my feelings known about issues and attitudes.
Writing is a full-time career for many people, but for those of us who do the job full-time, it’s often the second full-time that we carry. For me, I am a health care giver to an aging, failing parent–24/7 I am on call, and believe me, working around those demands is not an easy task on the best of days. Add to this the fact that my own health has been failing this year, and the demands and stress reach whole new levels. A couple of times a year, I seem to suffer stress-overload and my head gets pretty messed up when that happens. I go days without sleep, eat almost nothing, and I get overly emotional–that’s common enough and easy enough for many to understand. A break like this lasts a few days before I completely recover from it. In recent years, I’ve suffered the occasional “black-out” when this happens to me, as well, and have little to no memory of the day the break occurs. My most recent episode was the end of May, and that one cost me in ways I’m still trying to recover from, since not everyone wants to understand or allow kindness and love to be their guide when trying to deal with the fallout.
I’m not married, and never have been. I get asked that one a lot. Engaged three times before I was twenty-five, and I broke the engagements because I don’t believe it’s fair to ruin someone’s life for not being what you need. I’d have been three times divorced if I’d gone with those first moments of excitement and infatuation that made me say yes to those nice gentlemen. In the years since, I’ve never allowed anyone to get truly close to me, because I recognize that I have nothing to give to anyone at this point in my life, and I refuse to pretend otherwise. What I want and what I realistically have are a world apart and may always be that way, so… It doesn’t make me want any less than we all want, someone to lean on and trust, and love. I’m an emotional person, and I often care far too deeply for my own good. In spite of myself, I do trust, and I want to believe in people. The mistakes continue to add up, but my first reaction is to accept people for what they are when I meet them.
Writing is for me a way to escape a little, but also it’s a way to give back some of the hope that has been badly tainted in my real life. We enjoy happily ever after for a reason, it’s what many of us hope for and aspire to when we meet someone who is all we’ve ever dreamed about and wished for. In a world where we are disappointed, used, and have our dreams shattered on a daily basis, I think there’s a need in us all to believe there are still gentle and loving hearts out there, and that perhaps happily ever after is still possible if you are patient and honest. Most of all, you have to be honest and true to yourself. Everyone seems to like to throw around words like destiny and fate, and Karma–Karma is a big one, and the most often abused. What we sow in this life is what we ultimately reap, and usually the harvest comes when it’s least expected, in small and quiet ways. I think we all need to remember this, especially when we’re passing judgement where we know very little of the person we’re discussing, and even less about the reality of the situation being talked about by those who have no part in it.
My life is precisely that, MY LIFE. You have no idea what my days are like, or how alone I am from day to day, so don’t presume to judge or point fingers. I don’t believe I have the right to dissect your life, your motivations, or your reasons for doing what you do. Why should I accept you invading my life and passing judgement? Think about this, and I do mean think honestly about it. I am a public figure through my work, but my private life is just that–I’ve just given you more than I have given away in nine years of being a public person. So you know me a little better, and maybe the out-spoken and thought-provoking words make a bit more sense now. If they do, great. If not, look into your own soul and ask yourself honestly just why you resist reality. I don’t owe anyone explanation, and neither do you owe me any. But what you do owe me is the respect all people should be accorded unless they reach out with the intent of destroying you. I haven’t got the time or the energy to do about 99% of the shit I’ve been accused of in recent months. I don’t really live in the Twilight Zone, so stop forcing me to visit, please.