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Seems I always sit and write here when I'm complaining or feeling low. Well, there's something today that I want to tell you.
It gets so much better.
I won't say that it ever goes away; I think this specter will always be with me in some form or another, but much like my shadow I've learned to accept this pain as a companion in my life. It has changed me, but it doesn't define me. It isn't who I am. It's just there.
Two years ago I was crumbling with the surfaced memories of CSA. Today I release my second novel. It's a romance novel, with sex scenes. Writing and publishing is how I've reclaimed my soul. There are little pieces of my own personal pain in every book I write, but also hope, joy and love. My success is small, but growing. It's 8 in the morning and I've sold 8 books, none to family members.
I'm learning to come out of my shell as well. I've met some great authors who are online acquaintances now; where I used to be afraid to do so much as write an e-mail, now I reach out constantly to professionals to ask for reviews and promotional opportunities, and run a professional-looking website that I'm proud to own.
I'm coming back to life. In the end, while others helped, the only person who could really get there was myself. I had to fight through this. I had to take the steps. Only I know my pain and my darkness; nobody else can carry it for me. Don't get me wrong; I still have dark days. I suspect my depression will stick with me until the end, coming and going when it pleases. People will still say inappropriate things and upset me, and I'll still occasionally have meltdowns, maybe even suicidal thoughts.
But I have a reason to live. I have a purpose. Knowing that, I can go on. Writing began as an escape and I built a small empire out of it. My empire. The place where ghosts can never reach.
I want to tell you all to hang in there. Because I believe that in each and every one of you is a purpose. There's something that you are destined to do, and it's a waste to let the darkness take that away from you. To let the assholes that tried to steal our lives win. No. In the end, they do not matter. They are obsolete. We are survivors.
Keep fighting to get back to the light; I know that you can make it. I believe in you.
It gets so much better.
I won't say that it ever goes away; I think this specter will always be with me in some form or another, but much like my shadow I've learned to accept this pain as a companion in my life. It has changed me, but it doesn't define me. It isn't who I am. It's just there.
Two years ago I was crumbling with the surfaced memories of CSA. Today I release my second novel. It's a romance novel, with sex scenes. Writing and publishing is how I've reclaimed my soul. There are little pieces of my own personal pain in every book I write, but also hope, joy and love. My success is small, but growing. It's 8 in the morning and I've sold 8 books, none to family members.
I'm learning to come out of my shell as well. I've met some great authors who are online acquaintances now; where I used to be afraid to do so much as write an e-mail, now I reach out constantly to professionals to ask for reviews and promotional opportunities, and run a professional-looking website that I'm proud to own.
I'm coming back to life. In the end, while others helped, the only person who could really get there was myself. I had to fight through this. I had to take the steps. Only I know my pain and my darkness; nobody else can carry it for me. Don't get me wrong; I still have dark days. I suspect my depression will stick with me until the end, coming and going when it pleases. People will still say inappropriate things and upset me, and I'll still occasionally have meltdowns, maybe even suicidal thoughts.
But I have a reason to live. I have a purpose. Knowing that, I can go on. Writing began as an escape and I built a small empire out of it. My empire. The place where ghosts can never reach.
I want to tell you all to hang in there. Because I believe that in each and every one of you is a purpose. There's something that you are destined to do, and it's a waste to let the darkness take that away from you. To let the assholes that tried to steal our lives win. No. In the end, they do not matter. They are obsolete. We are survivors.
Keep fighting to get back to the light; I know that you can make it. I believe in you.
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