The Best Advice

Posted on by sereichert

You all know I’ve been going through some stuff. And there are good days and bad days that cycle through (sometimes it seems endlessly). I’m more than certain that friends are getting tired of my shit. I’m tired of my shit. I’m tired of the ceaseless parade of thoughts that run over, and over, and over in my head. The same story, and the injustice that it carries. And my powerlessness to fix it, to solve it, to gain back my power.

And my friends have been wonderful. They’ve listened they’ve helped me get through the toughest points. They have been soft and understanding. They’ve allowed me space to rant and cry and feel all the things. But I’m getting tired of my own emotional stink. I reached a breaking point last night. I was laying in bed, hoping I could somehow manifest a small tear in my own heart. A weak blood vessel wall in my brain. Anything that would silently open in the night and insure I wouldn’t have to wake up today and face another round of my emotional baggage. That’s how exhausted I am of all of this.

But I did wake up. I woke up and my depression sat heavy on my chest and begged me to stay in bed. But I know if I don’t get up and move in the morning, it will hold me hostage for the whole day. So I got up, dressed, checked my email and had a response from an older lady in one of the groups I’m a part of. I’d written her, irate, and kind of rudely (not proud of that) last night about some issues with the group.

I expected her response to be in kind. But it wasn’t. But neither was it coddling to my tantrum. In essence she grabbed me by the shirt front, pulled me up off the floor, looked me in the eyes and said: Yeah, you’re going through it. We all do. It’s not the end of the world, stop being a little bitch about it and do something. (This is complete paraphrasing). She’s too decent to use that kind of language, but the salt-of-the-earth response was the same.

We all suffer. Get over yourself. You’re not going to get better sitting in your self-pity. We can’t change the way of the world but we get to decide how we let it change us. So stop being a little bitch. Do something about it.

I dunno. I think that’s actually the thing I needed to hear. Pull yourself up kid. You’re tougher than this. So you took a loss. Don’t we all? Move the fuck on.

So this morning I worked out, went through the normal morning routine and looked at my to do list as a series of steps towards something better. Even if it’s just more sanity. Even if its just away from the pit of vipers I barely escaped. Even if its just a step towards something else to be determined. It’s better than sitting still, with the loop of regrets and hurt running over and over in my head. Some days we step far, some days we shuffle a few inches. But today when that loop threatens to run, a broken megaphone on repeat, in my head…I’m going to give it that response… Stop being the victim. Get over yourself. Get back to work.

The Beautiful Writers Workshop #9: Mental Floss

Posted on by sereichert

My daughter and I recently had an interesting discussion due to a class assignment on mental health concerning OCD, depression, and various other mental challenges. Trying to explain some of the behaviors and levels of severity made me think about my own quirks and habits that can be both positive and bordering on detrimental.

 

Creativity comes with certain mental “flourishes” that often translate into some pretty tortured souls out there, creating brilliant works of art, whether it be through paint, words, sculpture or music. In fact, I think society tends to think one almost must be tortured in some way to create.

I was listening to an interesting podcast with Florence, from Florence and The Machine, and along with her brilliant Scottish accent I was captivated by her story of alcoholism and how she used to think she had to drink to be creative. That she had to suffer, and to be spiraling down to really get to the good stuff of the soul and write music that mattered.

But then she sobered up and realized that it actually got easier to write without the heavy chained idea that suffering is the only way to make meaningful art.

It got me to thinking about how we can turn the chaos inside, into something beautiful by not fearing it. By not suppressing it or numbing it. By accepting the quirk that is you.

It’s like the person with OCD who uses their energies to post-it the hell out of an outline instead of writing “All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,” five-hundred times.

It’s all about how we use our quirks.

This week’s workshop is about finding your quirk. I don’t just want the strange dance you do when you walk through a spiderweb kind of quirk. I want the chronic kind. The one that makes you desperate for a piece of wood to knock on when the slightest terrifying thought crosses your mind. Or that makes you have to park in the same spot at the grocery store, every time.

Write a bit about your quirk, then go a level deeper and see what comes up. Why do you think you do it? Do you remember when it started? What fear drives it? What desire does it fulfill or captivate inside of you?

How can you shift it to work towards your advantage in your life and in your writing?

If you can’t think of anything, can you use your quirk IN writing as a character trait and follow how it changes your character’s life, behavior, and relationships. Write a poem about it and get past the grizzle and into the bone, or find the ridiculous humor of it to laugh at.

Self-reflection isn’t always easy and we often discover things we didn’t know were hiding in there. You aren’t required to share, but allow yourself to hurdle over the fear and discomfort to know thyself a bit better. Turn your downward spirals into whirlwind of thought and brilliance. See you next week.