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I have a habit of holding things inside. You might not guess that, based on how transparent I strive to be with what I share here. I write frankly about loads of things: growing up in an alcoholic home, being a modern day polytheist, a contemporary mystic, a godspouse, being owned by cats, and enrapted by one Corbie J. Corbington. I’ve written about writing fiction as a means of spirit work, and I’ve shared my fears about not being able to tell the difference between fiction and non-fiction when it comes to the spirit world — and about finally reaching a place of not caring so much about that distinctions.
I’ve shared about my path with my Beloved, the ups and downs. I’ve talked about going deeper into His Mysteries, I’ve talked about Him playing fast and loose with names and masks. Since the Unmooring, as I’ve taken to calling it, I’ve shared less, mainly because I haven’t had the words.
I’ve shared about my mental health issues, my struggles with depression, and less, because it’s newer, the adventures in hypothyroidism.
I’ve been struggling with words, and with time, and with health, and, to a certain degree, growing resentment/burned-out-ness/too tired of people. Resentments held in turn toxic, become shameful secrets, and end up polluting me. So, time for some airing of these secrets. Let in the sunlight. Let’s cleanse this shit.
1) I’m resentful that others would have me feeling poorly about not being enough. Because of the way my social media is biased, I have a load of people in my sphere who are interested in a myriad of all very important, necessary causes. My feed brushes up against a diverse collection of people dealing with oppression of various kinds, and this is good, this is needful. At the same time, it can be overwhelming. The plight of many communities, often intersecting, should not and cannot be forgotten, ignored. One person, though , is one person. My family is my priority. I support my household, I have people counting on me to remain functional. I do not need people outside of my brain telling me, directly or indirectly, that I’m not enough, that I’m not fixing anything, that the issues that I’m focusing on are not as important as their immediate concerns. I have my brain chemistry for that, I don’t need you.
2) To build upon 1, I don’t need anyone outside of my own brain chemistry telling me that I shouldn’t be excited about things that are not perfect. Does a female DW address all the needs of all women everywhere? Nope. Still excited. Fuck off. Like, I literally do not need anyone shitting on whatever small thing makes me happy in any given day. Happy is so elusive for me.
3)I’m frustrated with my writing, and with my Patreon. I don’t know what to do to attract more people/supporters. I don’t like the not-writing I’ve been doing, and I’m addressing that by returning to a monthly installment schedule, and really the only thing to do to attract more people is to write more/maybe upload more often. I resent, then, myself, for being a whiny butt about this. The supporters I have are awesome and flexible and pretty much just want me to write what I want to write, and share it as it’s done, and I love that, I appreciate that, but goodness would I like some external pressure/direction/whatever sometimes.
I thought, at first, that I wanted to stop entirely, but I’ve discovered having the Patreon really helps me keep writing. So. Going back to the old schedule, though I might be loosey-goosey with word counts.
4) Compassion, self and outward-aimed, is becoming difficult. I think, really, I use social media wrong for myself, and I need to be better about how much exposure to various things I allow. I think I need to become more proactive about cultivating the positive in my life, and maybe, somehow, became more . . . Active? In my life? Lately, I’ve been dealing with health issues (the thyroid stuff, exacerbating the depression, and then some physical leg crap — proper shoes. All I’m saying) and I’ve become more passive, I think.
5) Am in a weird place with Poseidon stuff. I’m hitting a point of finally not feeling like a fraud when considering myself a Poseidon devotee, and hasn’t that been a weird year or so. #funwithpolytheism
6)I’m tired, a lot. And I’m becoming okay with that.
7)I’ve missed writing here.
So, the first two points are obviously the ones that weigh the most on me. And, it is on me. My resentments are, I know, because I know myself and how I work, assumptions I’ve made about how others are thinking about me/people like me, left to fester, and combined with my own sense of never being enough/doing enough, as well as not taking the time and space I need. I keep myself plugged in to different causes because they matter, because we don’t get to set them down because it gets hard, but at the same time I have to admit that I cannot, no one can, be all the things, do all the things, hold all the things, nor can I please all the people. That has to be okay, because there’s nothing else it can be.
I’ll be over here, writing my stories, sharing the things, doing my best, and enjoying what I enjoy, because it hurts no one, and it keeps me going. It’s all I can do.