Wednesday, July 8, 2015

those fish are still dead

So, I have been in a very bleak period of depression for more than a year now, brought on by some publishing fucktardery, and I've been fighting the losing battle of trying to tell people that my fish are dead (see: the wonderful Allie Brosch, esp. the Allie Brosch fish post and you'll get that one.)
But today I am here to peek my tired eyes up over the blanket hiding my fetal position and admit that I might be getting a shipment of brand new fish.  Now, they'll probably be like me, fragile and a little bit broken, but they will surely have some hint of optimism and the slightest feathering of remembered joy.

I hope.  I never lost it, even in the darkest times, this hope -even when it was reduced to only a withered thing stretching her trembling hands out into the dark.

I've found her again, and made her soup, some of my quite good chicken vegetable (Homemade) and some of my even better hot and sour (also homemade) and tomorrow I might ply her with homemade turkey chili.  I want to feed her up so she doesn't waste away into one of the more nebulous emotions, or turn into vapidity or despair.

I'm crying while I write this, which is harder than you might think because I'm a tough old trial lawyer and there's no crying in litigation, as more than one partner told me back in the day.  But today I am crying, because I worry that I've let you down.  I cannot write 17 books in 6 months like so many indie authors these days. I wouldn't even try to.  Sometimes, it might take nearly TWO YEARS or even a little longer to get a book from me because my editor has to pry them from my cold, (almost)-dead hands because of the harsh perfectionism that is at the root of much of my depression.  It's the noose I use to tie up the bundles of my dead fish.

But today, I tried to be healthy and happy.  Both on the same day.  I did not "INVITE THE TRAGEDY TRAIN TO THE STATION" as my darling Navy Guy sometimes accuses, and I did not threaten my son with coming home to live in our non-existent basement once he flunks out of college (well, okay, not more than once), and I did not get caught up in a teen drama and I figured out my severe vertigo was because I had forgotten to take my anti-depressants for 4 or 5 days in a row.  DON'T DO THIS!!!

And just when I was starting to fall down on the floor with my dead fish and cry, I remembered that I have all of you, who have shown me crazy kindness and boundless love and understanding.
So.  Hey.  Send some of that stuff this way.   I will snuggle with ALL of you.
So. Thank you. You rock.
hugs,
Alyssa