I made an internal promise to myself to write more, but I wasn't going to pressure myself into doing something my mind couldn't handle. I have to remember that I'm flawed, just like everyone else. My flaws may be different - that's why they're mine - but they're still there and interfere with my life on a daily basis. Living with mental illness is not an easy thing to do.
Writing has always been therapy for me, whether it be poetry, blog/journal entries, or stories. They help me deal with and escape the thoughts that suffocate me, bringing me into a new world where I have control.
The past few days I've been working on Aubrey Nightingale because I let my son read the first 14 chapters, and now he won't stop bugging me about finishing it.
"Mom! You HAVE to finish it! I NEED to read this!"
If that's not motivation, I don't know what is...
Reading over a story I haven't touched in ... a long time, made me realize how much I've missed these characters. For a while, they were the only friends I had. A part of this story is a reflection of what was going on in my life when I started writing it back in 2006; living in Binghamton (the Vale), feeling like I had an obligation to someone, feeling trapped and alienated by the people around me, not having anyone who truly understood me, and constantly being underestimated. The origins of Aubrey's character come from me, but the person she really is, is more than I could ever dream to become. She's strong, smart, forgiving, loving, and, most of all, fearless. She doesn't let anyone stand in her way or tell her she can't do something. She does it anyway. She proves them wrong. She may be nervous, but she doesn't let it control her from doing what she needs to do.
That is my truth inside the lie. I guess it's not really a lie, but it's my truth hidden behind a veil of fiction.
Writing has always been therapy for me, whether it be poetry, blog/journal entries, or stories. They help me deal with and escape the thoughts that suffocate me, bringing me into a new world where I have control.
The past few days I've been working on Aubrey Nightingale because I let my son read the first 14 chapters, and now he won't stop bugging me about finishing it.
"Mom! You HAVE to finish it! I NEED to read this!"
If that's not motivation, I don't know what is...
Reading over a story I haven't touched in ... a long time, made me realize how much I've missed these characters. For a while, they were the only friends I had. A part of this story is a reflection of what was going on in my life when I started writing it back in 2006; living in Binghamton (the Vale), feeling like I had an obligation to someone, feeling trapped and alienated by the people around me, not having anyone who truly understood me, and constantly being underestimated. The origins of Aubrey's character come from me, but the person she really is, is more than I could ever dream to become. She's strong, smart, forgiving, loving, and, most of all, fearless. She doesn't let anyone stand in her way or tell her she can't do something. She does it anyway. She proves them wrong. She may be nervous, but she doesn't let it control her from doing what she needs to do.
That is my truth inside the lie. I guess it's not really a lie, but it's my truth hidden behind a veil of fiction.
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