Sometimes we get so wrapped up in everything we forget what is important in life...love, friendship. Back when my mind was in a darker place I was juggling writing, and reviewing, and helping others with their writing, and being a soccer mom, practice four nights a week, games on Saturdays. I was making videos, keeping house, grocery shopping, screwing around on the computer, helping everyone with everything they asked me to, or saying I would at least. I was juggling, but I was a bad juggler. I dropped the balls. Every single one of them.
I stopped doing everything. Stopped reading, stopped cooking, stopped cleaning, stopped helping. The only thing I didn't stop was writing. It was therapeutic for me. All these crazy feelings were shooting out my fingers on to my keyboard. And there was much death. =)
If you were one of those people who asked for my help and I didn't come through, I apologize. I failed you.
This is something I wrote during what I'll call my dark era. lol. It's just a blurb, not part of anything bigger, and on my computer it's merely saved as "dead".
Today was the first time I really wanted to be dead. Not kill myself, I’m not that brave. And yes, I do think those that kill themselves are brave and not cowardly. Is suicide noble? By no stretch of the word, but brave in its own right. I don’t want to kill myself, I just don’t want to be alive. Right now I wouldn’t care if I got hit by a bus, or contracted some terrible disease that killed me within hours. I just don’t want to be here, in this world, this space where I don’t quite fit. Where I don’t feel wanted. Where I feel invisible. This place where I can’t stand people, but crave the connections I have with them. I want to be near them, but not on a personal level. I just want them surrounding me. Keeping me company with their presence, but not with their words, their quirks, their personalities.
I walked today in a surreal reality. My husband walked with me, telling me about a dream he had. My senses were heightened to everything but his voice. In truth I didn’t care. About his dream or anything he might have been telling me. I threw in a couple mmhmmms, and yeahs, and rights so I appeared to be listening. But I couldn’t. My entire body was in another place. My heart fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. And my senses. The wind brushed my cheek with its cold, drafty hands. Blew through my hair like an airy comb. My ears acutely aware of dogs barking, phones ringing, neighbors laughing, and cars driving down a distant street. Breathing in the sky, the earth, the water, the heavens, I felt almost weightless, floating just outside actuality, not quite part of it, yet tethered to it in some way.
I keep walking, and as I do, I come back into myself. My senses allay. My heart slows to a dull thud. A beat so mundane and spiritless it reminds you of who you are. What you are. A no one. Just a speck. Nothing that really matters.
And once again, I want to be dead.
Thanks for reading.
Ciao,
Megan
So I entered a video competition, because you know how much I love video. I decided to follow the lead of fellow writer and friend Dwight Okita and create a book trailer for my novel, Never Eighteen.
Sometimes when you're at your darkest, its the storm before the light. Today as I drove to work the sun was just coming up over the horizon, a gleaming orange globe after days of rain that felt like summer, Christmas, and a heart full of love all at the same time. Mount Rainier, an engraved silhouette against a misty sky. To top it off, Beautiful Day by U2 was playing on the radio. It's one of those moments you wish you could make eternal. One of those moments that make you believe in heaven, a moment that gives you hope.
And now, time to gear up for NaNoWriMo, National Novel Writing Month. Not sure how I'll do this year, the previous two years that I won I wasn't working. We'll see. The novel I'll be working on is one I've actually already started, only 1800 words in though which in Nano is just over a day's writing. It's called Withered. Here's the cover I slapped together for the contest (and the winner from my facebook page).
I have not slept well recently. For like, three months. Factors: stress, the weather, my 41 year old body, my social activities. Last night was bad. A combination of middle age and pouring rain and cell phones. Rain used to be a comforting sound when I slept. In my old house. In my new house the water rushing through the gutters loudly making me wake in a cold sweat thinking I need to get up and build an arc. And then there's my neighbors wind chimes. Wind chimes that are lovely on a warm summer day while you're sitting in your backyard bbqing with a beer in your hand. Wind chimes that when you close your eyes, you feel as close to Africa as you can be. Wooden and whimsical, the sound it makes is enchanting. Unless it's 3:00 am on a windy night. Then it's annoying and reminds me of someone turning the handle of a jack-in-the-box over and over.
Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. That's what I heard about every five minutes during the hours of 2 am and morning. Someone's cell phone was buzzing and it wasn't mine. I could hear it through the floor. Thing One says it wasn't hers. Thing Two says it was Thing One's, she could hear it too. New rule. Cell phones get turned off at night.
"The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to cross and which to burn." ~David Russell
Sometimes we get so wrapped up in everything we forget what is important in life...love, friendship. Back when my mind was in a darker place I was juggling writing, and reviewing, and helping others with their writing, and being a soccer mom, practice four nights a week, games on Saturdays. I was making videos, keeping house, grocery shopping, screwing around on the computer, helping everyone with everything they asked me to, or saying I would at least. I was juggling, but I was a bad juggler. I dropped the balls. Every single one of them.
I guess I haven't really updated my writing for awhile, so thought I would take the opportunity while I was lacking the creativity to come up with an interesting blog topic. So, I've sent my revisions into my editor and now again I wait while crossing my fingers that they are good enough to pass. 
I started another YA novel. It's another one of my uplifting stories about death. er. Why do I always write about death? I guess I'm just fascinated by it. But I digress.
Other than all that writing stuff I'm busy being a soccer mom, chauffer, cook, maid, and laundress to Things One and Two. And I'm still trying to get used to working. Not there yet. I also apparently celebrated my unbirthday yesterday. I guess we all have to do that every once in a while.
So, I told you about Thing Two kicking a guy in the gnarlies for spitting in her face? Well, here's another story for ya. Last week, this Freshman jerk was saying crude things about Thing One to Thing Two. Thing Two, totally disturbed, called me. I told her to be sure she told her sister so she knew what was being said about her. End of story, right? Wrong.
I was feeling stuck with the novel I'm working on, didn't know how to start, where to go with it, so I took some time at my daughters soccer game yesterday to jot a few notes down, plot points, a chronology of sorts. Still wasn't really feeling it.
The next thing Austin wants to do is eat something really hot, because he hates hot. He and his friend (and secret crush) Kaylee go to the BBQ Pete's booth and have some good old hot chicken. BBQ Pete's has been around for as long as I can remember, not just at the fair, but restaurants around town. Many of the restaurants have since closed, but you can be sure to find them at the fair every year.
Kaylee and Austin also take a ride in the Haunted House, one of the lamest rides at the fair, but it's dark, and you never know what can happen in the dark, right? I've missed the fair the last couple years because it ain't cheap (you can count on dropping at least $200 for a family of four). But everytime I go I have a blast.
