A break in the Silence #AmWriting #BiPolar #NoSleep #CrazyTrain @shannonihayes

Wisdom, Happiness Harmony

       These are the words that have sat before me for the past month or so. Little Dollar store framed caricatures  and a photo of a lost beloved pet. That there is my Grifialchial (Griffin or Mow, Mow for short). He died back in 2004 but I still miss him quite a lot. He was a beautiful and affectionate boy. Followed me around all through the house. 

I'm sitting here at 3 am with a shit tone of things running through my head, chowing down on a brownie washing it down with a bottle of water. Not sure exactly where I'm going with this post. Maybe it's the coffee keeping me up. Maybe it's the Mania, I'm not entirely sure, either way I'm writing something. Listening to my Pandora station, the songs are all poignant tonight. Songs like Cold (but I'm still here) from Evans Blue and Beautiful, from 10 Years, are hitting nerves...

#ThrowbackThursday An Opinionated Artist Runs Her Mouth @shannonihayes 1st published Nov.2012

An Opinionated Artist Runs Her Mouth

       

        So once again I find myself in the wee hours of the morning doing anything to avoid working on my WIP. I know, I know I should be tearing up the pages and getting my ass in gear, but I just have the feeling that I need to get this one, like so many others out of me.​
       I was chatting up with a fellow author and our conversation fell into our opinions about writing, novel lengths, means of expression, all the argumentative shit. (Who knew I could be so deep!) Fortunately we agree pretty much across the spectrum. And here I was thinking that my Co-author and I were the only ones. I came to realize that the opinions we had while not popular are not a singularity.​
     As writers we are all, each and every one of us, whether published privately, independently, or still banging our heads against the target on the wall, Artists.​

One of those days #Fuckitol #BiPolarRollercoster

I should be in the hospital. I know it. My mother is predictably suggesting it without saying it. I've been a super bitch for a while now. My meds are off, I'll figure it out. I always do. But what if I can't? What if that's the whole point. I'm not going to be over all of this. EVER.

Being Bi Polar doesn't go away.

One moment I'm happy and energetic and the next my body feels like it's falling apart. Everything hurts and I don't give  a flying fuck about anything that isn't about me. That last part is mostly true most of the time. Actually, scratch that all of the time.

I can't help it if I am my favorite subject. It's not my fault if what I hear from someone can be reasoned by me to be something that I can talk about with experience. I'm sorry for not being able to make you happy. I'm miserable so what do you expect?

There's no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, there's just us chasing it on a wing And a prayer. Sure its supposed to be about the adventure.... It's supposed to be about the journey not the destination. But I'm so sick of being on this endless road to nowhere ...

32 years old, four books published. I should be ecstatic about it. A book in the second round of the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award Contest.... all GOOD things.... so why then do I wanna crawl into a deep dark ditch and pull the earth in in top?

My Dad is dying. Realistically he's been dead for 11 years, he just hasn't had the sense to actually lay down and die. The man was once my world and the epitome of what I thought men should be like. TALL, STRONG, HANDSOME. KIND, LOVING, someone who provides without smothering.  My Dad was a great man. Worked 16 hours a day, and still would pack up the car on a Saturday morning to go out to Vermont for Maple Syrup, just to have pancakes on Sunday morning.

Now... He's here, but his quality of life is moot at his own choice. He Chooses not to get out of bed. Chooses not to shower, shave, leave his room. That's a good enough reason to be angry, depressed, or just down right ready to snap.

Then there's the rest of my home life. Those who know me know the crazy that is home. If we have cash, it's awesome. But once the money dwindles.... The claws come out and it's scream and bitch time. I give and get in return don't get me wrong. My Cunty nature is well inherited, and my Mother is the master. I say this with all the love and affection I have. Which contrary to  Most Popular Belief is quite a lot. I can call her whatever I want, cuz she's mine. But I'll knock your fucking teeth in if you say it your self.

Oh I'm not having a pity party. I'm not wired that way. I don't give a shit if people get it. That's the gist of things. I've been taking a bottle of Fuckitol each day just to get through. To push every day. I had someone recently say that we appreciate things more if we have to work for them. That those that have things handed to them don't appreciate. Well it would be nice to have the chance to see it from the Have's side for a change.

 I'm going away in May. 9 days of nothing but good friends, new places and DRINKS!! Lots of them. Nothing is going to stop that. It's all paid for. I'VE FUCKING EARNED IT!!!

As excited about that as I am I'm still not nearly as excited as I Should be. I have a friend that I let ramble on, so that I don't have to think about my own shit. I'm thankful for that. I like the distraction. I need the distraction.

Up down turn around pick a bale of cotton.... Oh my Lordy pick a bale a day... Yes Ma'm I'll do as you say....

This is how I feel about my world today.... Guess I'll go and bake a cake that I won't get to eat.
 

Relatively Screwed

Today was it. I hit my limit and almost wound up in shackles for it. It's been coming, and as hard as I tried to ignore it, and deny it, my Bi-Polar has been affecting me and those around me in the not so awesome ways for quite a while. I've said it before and I'm sure to say it again and again, I am not the best when it comes to empathy, or feeling for others, why? I don't know, I often say it's simply that I don't fucking care. But I'm starting to think that it may be just the opposite... I apologize in advance if this whole thing seems odd, but I think I'm in the process of transitioning between Manic and Depressive. So bare with me... Or don't the choice is yours...

An Exercise We Should All Consider......As People and as Authors

               A little back ground. This was an exercise my psychologist suggested. At first I scoffed at it, as I often do at anything that seems an exercise in futility.  But having gone back and looked at it over time, while my observations of myself have not changed, I have found that this organization of thought has helped me to develop as a person and a writer. Understanding ones self is the key to everything and I believe this was a great step.

               The Exercise was to picture your emotions as living breathing entities.  All traveling on a bus, they are the passengers, and you potentially the driver. To take them and describe them as you see them. It has been enlightening. You should try it!

When the story take on a mind of its own. Also known as Ahhh! too much in the head and not enough time!!

             Ever sit down to work on a piece of your fiction with a definitive Beginning...Middle...and End in place? It is a rarity, I know, but it does sometimes happen. So I have the whole of the work all nice and neat in my head and have been banging out the pages on and off for the past couple months, admittedly more off than on, but it is there. More or less, in this case more, rather than less.

               I started this venture telling myself that it was going to be a short story. Just a little companion Prequel to my Debut Novel, In Dreams The Road  Unavoidable.                                          

It's Been A Long Journey..... But Here I Am.

             All created by me, for all of you! Hours of blood, sweat and tears went into all that is my work. And just when I thought I was done, Woosh! It had to be redone. Oh Holy Hell.

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          Format this way for smashwords, that way for Kindle, and another way all together for Createspace. I think my head is gonna explode. Add to that the fact that my computer hates me the last few days. It likes to freeze up at the most inopertune of times. Leaving me hanging like a slip on the clothesline just as the rain starts, while your at work! All this insert break here and update TOC there, for a minute I was wondering if it was worth all the trouble.

​                      But then I saw it, MY Book. Front, spine, back cover....

Bi-Polar Writer Coping

         I'm not a person who minces words, it's not my particular style. I have an innate need to correct people when they misuse words, or pronounce them wrong. Always have, probably always will. It's a facet of my personality, like never sleeping at night, but being able to crash so long as the sun is up. Or going on day long top to bottom cleaning sprees. Before psychiatrists and other health professionals got involved this was my normal....