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| This doughnut has absolutely nothing to do with the blog post. |
In true British fashion, I am borderline disturbed by how fast January has gone. It has been an odd month with some high and lows. The lows aren't exactly lows per se, but as is my way with this waffly blog, I shall elaborate.
For the first time, bar two years where I was too ill to go out and a year where I worked abroad, I stayed in on New Year's Eve. I decided for once that I wanted to actually be able to wake up on January 1st ready to work towards my goals, but when I woke up in this brand new year, I felt nothing short of lousy and after forcing myself to get on with some work, I pretty much gave up... until suddenly, in the afternoon, I got a burst of energy and began writing a short story that I mentioned I'd like to do as part of my New Year's Resolutions. I ended up writing 3,006 words of it and feeling on top of the world. The following day, I was back at the day job and in the morning before work, I edited the BIG project I have banged on about FOREVER, starting at the beginning of the draft and got very excited about what I changed. In the evening, after a meal that made me feel as if I was swimming (a very big and filthy takeaway pizza...really blew those resolutions quickly), I continued to write more of the short story I'd started the day before and somehow wrote a further 1,659 words. The following morning (the 3rd), I carried on editing the BIG project and already, the first chapter was a hundred times better and so was the character of the female protagonist. I even sent a bit of it to Mum which she said she liked a lot. That evening, I ended up getting carried away and finished the first draft of the short story I'd been working on since the 1st, writing 2,109 words and bringing the grand total to 6,774 words. Not bad for three days work.
On Saturday 5th January I started working again on the other short story I finished last year that is almost ready to pop up on Amazon. In the two weeks after that, life followed a pattern where I would wake up at 6am to work on the BIG project before work then the short story I started last year after, but some days I couldn't do anything as my day job was full on to to say the least. It wasn't bad at work, but intense and I still feel very lucky to say I really love what I do, which has not always been the case - far from it. I obviously want to make my living as writer, which I seem to be heading towards, but it's nice to not dread my day job and actually get something from it.
Moving on to something else... On Tuesday 22nd January, I woke up feeling very anxious. Over the two weeks spent working on the BIG project and short story, I hadn't been looking after myself, sleeping very little, pushing myself waaaaaaaaay too far and, as a result, I got to the point of anxiousness where I was jittery and exhausted beyond anything I had ever felt in my life. At the end of last year, I had had an idea for (yet) another short story but for a while, I didn't know exactly how I was going to achieve the outcome I had in my head. Rather ironically, the story is about mental health and this time, instead of wrapping a quilt around my tired broken body and attempting rather half-heartedly to push myself, I decided to go with it, not bury the feelings and use them in order to try and write the short story about mental health, especially seeing as my own was compromised. That morning, I ended up writing 757 words of it and not only that, but I finally worked out how to achieve what I wanted to do with it. Anxiety isn't very pleasant (<<<understatement of the year) but sometimes, very rarely, there are silver linings. In the evening I wrote another 1285 words of it.
On Wednesday 23rd I was still shattered, but using my temporary friend Anxiety (something I would definitely not recommend doing), after breakfast I wrote 903 words of the short story. In the evening, even in my comatose state, I managed a further 1,156 words bringing the total to 4,101. Not bad considering I started it a day ago feeling what can only be described as an anxious mess.
The following day (24th) I attempted to write and got down maybe a couple of hundred words before I had to admit defeat. I wasn't feeling well mentally. I was exhausted and not able to see straight. I stopped and I think only then did it truly register that I had pushed myself too far and had to force myself to take a step back. And so, I downed tools and let myself have the weekend to recover.
On Monday 28th, even though my anxiety (and to be perfectly honest, enjoyment) stopped me from relaxing over the weekend, I returned to the short story and wrote 860 words in the morning before work. Due to a staff party in the evening, I couldn't write but before work on Tuesday 29th I wrote 570 words and after work, I managed to finish the short story writing 263 words and also doing a little bit of tinkering on it. The following morning I basically went over when I had written, 'tarting' it up, taking bits out, adding little snippets here and there before sending it to my mum who always offers her honest opinion, bringing the final total for the first draft to 5,781 words. It is probably the roughest draft I have written in years, which I put down to exhaustion and the current state of my mental health, but I think it has the most potential. Even better, Mum messaged me to say she loved it.
And so, for the first time ever really, I'm actually going to do the unthinkable and look after myself. Tomorrow, I am taking actual time off....well, till next Wednesday at least. I shall be escaping to my mum's in the countryside in order to sleep and eat good food and not think of anything in particular but sleeping and eating. Perfect. I have finally got the memo that in order to write and work like I do, I need to look after myself.
I am too tired and anxious to form real emotions right now but I know through the mist of anxiety and sleep deprivation, I'm actually rather happy and excited and can't wait to get back on... but maybe this time implementing sleep, good food and some TLC.
Now all that's out of the way, I thought I would end on two lovely bits of news.
So far, I have received amazing reviews for the short story I published at the end of November last year, Fancy That and received my first ever review from an actual book reviewer: the lovely Karen from the blog In A Small Compass and you can find her review (here).
She also reviews for the fabulous book blog Rosie Amber (here) which meant the review was also posted there too. I know reviews aren't everything, and you shouldn't set store by them, but it was very nice for my first one to be a goodun :)
On Sunday, I recorded an episode for the podcast Mental Health Book Club talking about the book I published last year with Trigger, Every Trich in the Book and also discussing my battle and recovery from trichotillomania. I was very honest but I've realised I don't care as we need to be talking more about it and saying exactly how it is instead of a filtered version that we see way too much in social media.
Right, so there's yet another long post for you.
I'll be back when I've had some sleep and feel like a human again so until next time,
Cara x
