fears

Tumblr has become my confession box; this place remains slightly more honed. But my most recent ‘yes, this deserves a frenzied Tumblr post’ moment seems to have grown and spread, an idea or a virus. The end result is what will tell the difference, I suppose, but ultimately it is this – what are the fears that are creeping on my mind, and will  writing them out, sending them into the internet (so the world and the ether all at once, audience depending) change anything? Will admitting them in this space lighten the load, or simply provide more ammunition for people to doubt me, and for me to doubt myself?

Only one way to find out.

Here some things that I fear. In moderate detail.

I fear that my best writing days are behind me, that I haven’t improved my craft since I was sixteen. I have not had creative work published since I was in my first year of university, and that was only because I’d been lucky enough to have work submitted by my glorious former English/Creative Writing teacher at high school. I had chances to make the most of noteworthy names in my undergraduate courses – but I was too anxious, too depressed, too insert-synonym-for-terrified to let my classmates see my work, let alone the tutors and lecturers that we had. I passed my stage three prose course with a fairly good grade – but I’m sure it could have been an absolutely glorious grade if I had gone to more than the first lecture and workshop and then had borderline panic attacks every time I thought about going to a class taught by Witi Ihimaera.

On that note, I also fear that if I did find myself accepted into a masters programme (as I have wanted to do since the aforementioned English teacher basically introduced me to the concept of the IIML etc), I would descend into the same I’m-not-good-enough spiral, that I would take all judgements too harshly, that I just couldn’t hack it. Honestly, that sort of fear is probably part of why I decided that I should investigate publishing and editing as a career choice. So that I could think critically about my work from the perspective of the people with the power. So that I could learn what people are looking for when they work their ways through submissions. The contacts and connections that I have made since I moved to Wellington are probably helping that somewhat – I don’t feel like the total outsider to the literary world that I once did, but I still live on the fringe.

I fear that I have shot myself in the foot with pursuing ‘journalistic’ writing in various forms, especially over the past few months. It’s not that I don’t enjoy writing these things, but I feel as if it jeopardises some people’s opinions of me and my work. Yes, I have written reviews, and feature type pieces, and musician interviews – but that doesn’t define me or what my goals and intentions are. My first and foremost love is still prose (and sort of poetry too, even if I won’t admit that up front terribly often). Articles are a way of getting paid to write things. And that’s still rather amazing to me.

Not everything has to do with writing, don’t worry.

I fear loneliness. Oftentimes, since I’ve moved here, it feels as though my connection to friendship is through the internet, and real life is just a place where I work and go to class. I don’t choose for it to be that way, but I’m still so stuck in my ways of the same group of friends through undergrad, and attaching myself to D’s friendship groups – and generally just using the (reasonable) excuse of being too sick (both in body and mind, thanks hindsight) to put effort into things like socialising. I’ve lost my touch, if ever I had it – and the problem is, the people whose company I tend to like most are probably those who least feel the need for another person in their life.

Related to that, I fear my own desirability – both romantically and platonically. I look at myself critically, and struggle to figure out what would draw anyone to me. This is before I even take into account the whole busted gut situation. Sometimes I worry that I’ve thrown myself too far into this book world – it is, after all, all that I’ve ever really known. Music, and words. I know that in theory there is more to me than that, but so often I struggle to come up with anything else. It’s reading, writing, publishing – or listening, playing, singing. Every gerund rooted in decisions that I made many years ago.

I have never felt ‘attractive’. I have always been the pursuer in any potential relationships (not that my backlist is terribly heavy there), I don’t have people paying attention to me in any way. When the fact that I ‘like’ someone comes up (rarely do I let that happen, but happen it has), I’m always faced with a ‘wait, really? I had no idea’. I just don’t know how to show it. I fear that this is something I just have to accept, that people don’t consider me a possibility until I put myself out there, ready to be shot down. It’s what I have come to expect. I didn’t walk away from the three years with Dom and keep my ability to trust people intact.

I fear my body, what it does and what it may not be able to do. This is where things maybe get a bit heavy. You’ve been warned. I have a chronic illness – we know that. It’s not fun, but for the most part, it’s manageable. Ish. But let’s now add to that the fact that at my age my mother had melanoma. One of my medications also makes me more susceptible to melanoma. More recently, she has had seizures and been hospitalised for them.  My father, not yet 60,  has had arthritis for years, has another autoimmune condition (not Crohn’s, like I do) and has also had heart issues. So I come from… imperfect stock healthwise, shall we say. All of this contributes to a fear of my health’s twists and turns. I already get IBD-related arthritic pain, at times. Bad knees are not the domain of one in their mid-twenties.

And related to all of that, I fear for my future. I was an IVF baby. I took eight years to come about. And whilst my two younger siblings then came about naturally, there was obviously something not cooperating that needed to be nudged for things to start happening. Because of the strange tag thing on my ear, Mum used to say that they mixed me up badly in the lab – now it feels a little more self-destructive to say that, since my health has deteriorated. So I fear having a genetic tendency towards problems in the future – not to mention the fact that since I have already had abdominal surgery and am guaranteed at least one more… it all adds up to make things like pregnancy that little bit more difficult. And it’s all the worse to worry about these things when you don’t really have a means to make them happen, anyway. It was one thing for me to wonder about it 6+ months ago when I was in an established relationship – not as something to have happen any time super soon, but something to be aware of.

Now that there’s nobody alongside me, it feels pointless to even wonder about these things, but still they play on my mind.

There are other things, of course – noises in the night, disasters, the usual. I am lucky, I suppose (ha), that I don’t have any crippling phobias of any kind, I can dislike spiders but not leap away from them – I’d flinch if a mouse scurried by but I wouldn’t scream.

But these things, even if they are me wrapping myself in knots, are weighing me down.

on we shall go

Here’s a little book related denouement, to follow up the emotionally-fraught time that was last night. Since we all know that books are what I do best.

What am I reading at the moment, you may wonder? Well, it’s never as simple as answering with a one-title response. I am in the process of working my way through :

  • Unspeakable Secrets of the Aro Valley by Danyl McLauchlan*
  • Beautiful Ruins by Jess Walter
  • The Fault in Our Stars by John Green**
  • The Extraordinary Adventures of Adele Blanc-Sec Vol. 2 by Jacques Tardi
  • Speaker for the Dead by Orson Scott Card***

There are also a fair few books on my shelves/piles that have bookmarks at a partway point, but that I am not currently actively engaging in, so to speak. They are the next tier to work my way through.

*Ought to finish it before I start my work placement at VUP. Really good, just a little slow going.
** Re-reading. Because, you know, movie. And also I just need a little John Green in my life every now and then.
*** I have a lot of feelings about OSC & his books, and I will write a post about them at some point.

I’m on a real graphic novel kick at the moment, after finishing reading the first Sandman bind-up… but I decided to branch out from pure Gaiman, and test the waters of other areas. Since I thoroughly enjoyed the Adele Blanc-Sec movie, I figured that the graphic novels would be a fine choice – and so far, so good. I have been meaning to re-read Scott Pilgrim, but since that has a very specific connection to That Which I Am Moving On From In All Ways, I’m not sure if that would be sensible to do right now. The last thing I need is good books/movies/memories being ruined by my current feelings regarding the person in question. So maybe the Bryan Lee O’Malley material is off the cards for a while.

Per the John Green mention, you can probably gather that I’m not entirely removed from my YA phase of late – and after spending a fair while today trotting around the kids and teen sections at work, shelving and book-lookin’,  it seems unlikely to change any time soon – there’s always something new that I notice and leaf through and want to devour. Relating back to yesterday’s post somewhat, I really do wish that I had a bit of Olive-style company for many reasons, but one of which is certainly to be able to have someone to read gorgeous beautiful books with.

That’s probably a combination of specific child missing, and general mid-20s cluckiness.

Anyway.

I hope you are all reading wonderful things as well. If you aren’t, rectify this immediately. Go to your local indie bookshop and get a recommendation.  Buy a book. Make the publishing world turn.

upcoming pieces

So, I’m not sure how many people reading this on a regular basis have investigated this blog because of its IBD/health connections, but as you may or may not be aware, in addition to my on-going 365 pieces project, I am trying to work on getting together a greater number of pieces on gastrointestinal (and mental, which I have delved into recently, too) health. But on the off chance that any of you have a vested interest in any subsections of said health issues, I thought I’d put it to you, my hypothetical readers, to have a say. Current areas I’ll probably look into in the near future are…

  • experiences on the ward
  • NZ healthcare and why it’s awesome
  • the wonders of prednisone
  • the wonders of tramadol
  • the wonders of fentanyl/whatever other drugs they give me before ‘scoping
  • the difference medication makes
  • a thorough investigation into/explanation of the differences between IBD and IBS
  • IBD and ‘first world problems’ (this will require more elaboration at some stage, I guess)
  • gluten? dairy?  & other irksome questions from well-meaning people
  • why I should get a j-pouch/why I should get an ostomy/why I should avoid surgery at whatever cost
  • more mental health/confessions of a depressive IBDer
  • what the hell can you eat, then Briar?

That’s the list I scribbled a couple of days ago, anyway. So there are a fair few different areas to jump on into – but if anyone thinks any sound particularly juicy, then do let me know, because writing for the Internet generally involves appealing the masses, to some extent!

14 WAYS TO HAVE A RAD TIME, EVEN IF YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER IS THE PORCELAIN THRONE.

So, I always enjoy reading lists that bloggers like Gala Darling create – inspirational lists of things to do, places to go, ways to cheer yourself up, ways to celebrate life… all kinds of things. Thing is, by its very nature, IBD – or even severe IBS, I’ll admit it – kind of limits your social/adventuring options. So, I bring to you…

14 WAYS TO HAVE A RAD TIME, EVEN IF YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHER IS THE PORCELAIN THRONE.

[Section 1 – at home! since, you know, if you’re sick, home is often where the heart, and the head, and the wHole body are]

1. Bubble bath. Perks include – it can calm you down (and stress can be a factor for some people with bowel problems), you can douse yourself in all kinds of sparkly delicious smells to disguise any (probably imaginary, but no less disturbing!) lingering odours that you may be inflicted with, AND, most conveniently, more often than not, it’s the same room as your toilet. SUPER WIN.

2. Bring your world to the bathroom. I’m talking iPod docks, books, laptops/tablets/phones, you name it, it will enhance the bathroom experience.

3. Dance party. If you’re up to it, shaking your groove thing can be very cathartic.

4. Cooking something fabulous. Since nobody knows your own specific colon/digestive system idiosyncrasies better than you do, cook some amazing feast that caters to your specific dietary requirements. Alternatively, junk food that fits your needs is good too. Sometimes, eating ‘healthy’ can be hard for a low-residue dieting IBDer, but hey, if you want an excuse to gorge on something ‘bad’ under the guise of ‘it’s the only thing I can digest except poached chicken!’ I say MORE POWER TO YOU.

5. Redecorating. Having a room/home that you actually like to be in seriously enhances the experience of being at home, and if you’re stuck at home because your colon is telling you that that’s the only thing doing right now, then between voyages to the loo, contemplate how your room could be more badass, and make it happen.

6. Movie/TV show marathoning. Before I ‘knew’ I was sick – but was symptomatic, and depressed, and therefore basically never leaving the house if I could help it, I got through a hell of a lot of Gilmore Girls and Buffy. My life is better for having those shows in my life. Good can come of being a brain-addled, pipe-twisted couch potato!

7. WRITE! Case in point. To be honest, though, when I was at my worst, I was also not really in the right mindset for writing. These last few months have played host to my largest writing output, both blogging and creative writing, in year. But capture what moments you can. You never know how good it might be to look back and see how far you’ve come.

[section 2 – AWAY from home! scary! but possible!]

8. Go to the beach. So, this may sound wacky on several levels, especially for those of you reading this from wintery northern hemisphere climes, but with a little forethought, beach-tripping can be totally doable, even if you’re not at your best. I think the trick is to find a moderately-frequented beach – one that’s popular enough to have more than one public toilet, ideally one that’s actually occasionally cleaned, but not so popular as to mean you’re going to be queuing for ages and risking major bikini-bottom trauma. Let’s be honest – it’s a possibility. Swimming’s not even essential, nor is lying in the sun – just find a shady tree (pohutukawas are best for it, if you’re lucky enough to live in my part of the world) and listen to the waves. Build a sand castle – hell, build a sand-toilet-idol. LIVE THE SUMMER DREAM.

9. Catch a ferry somewhere. Sticking to the seaside theme, if you live somewhere with a harbour, hop on a ferry – they have bathrooms! – and go somewhere new. Or somewhere old. Or anywhere, really. Enjoy being out on the ocean. It’s a damn fine thing.

10. Movies. Your friends will love you for being the one who ‘takes one for the team’ when you offer to take the seat at the end of the row. Little do they know (or maybe they do) it’s just smart planning. Keep your ticket on you. Avoid popcorn, unless a) your intestines don’t have an aversion to it, in which case yay! lucky you or b) you know you’ll have a delayed reaction and that buttery goodness is worth the repercussions. I feel ya. I’ve been there. It’s bittersweet.

11. Art galleries/museums. Major galleries and museums will generally be pretty well kitted out for public facilities – and what’s more, often they’ll give you a handy dandy map when you go in, WHICH SHOWS YOU WHERE THEY ALL ARE. It’s like they’re made for us. Just make sure you check out the map before you go wandering into any old wings that may not be quite so well equipped, okay? Nothing like hobble-running through a voclano-exhibit to try to catch the train on time.

12. Visit your parents/grandparents/siblings/close-and-understanding friends. Especially the first two – always good to keep those that brought you into being happy. A way to leave the house and still have unfettered access to a bathroom? It’s possible! Plus depending on the parent/grandparent/sibling/close-and-understanding friend in question, who knows what kind of delicious baked goods they might unleash upon you?

13. Gigs. I’ll admit, I do still get a little anxious going out to concerts, and, realistically, going to the symphony may not be ideal for the colonly-challenged, but a gig at a regular ol’ bar or rock club? Totally doable. Stay away from major crush areas, towards the side or the back – or even a mezzanine, if there is one – and you’ll benefit in more health and safety related ways than just having an easy UC/Crohn’s escape route. I’d recommend scoping out where the bathrooms are beforehand, though, and maybe steer clear of venues you know have poor lavatory hygiene. Get wrapped up and absorbed in the music, and it’s amazing how, even for a couple of hours, intestines can miraculously settle down.

14. Bush walks. I guess you overseas folks would be more likely to call it hiking, but here, bush walking suits me just fine. This isn’t exactly recommended if you’re in the middle of a mega-flare, but if you’re in a bit of an in-between place like I am, it’s not impossible. No big quests, mind you, but take a drive out to somewhere gorgeous – where the drive is part of the fun – with a small loop track. If you’re in Auckland, check out the Hunua Falls – you can loop down to the falls and back (and by back, I mean the carpark with a Department of Conservation administered toilet block, chur, guys!) in ten minutes, if you need to. You can venture further up other tracks if you want, but even just that little track take you through old forests and up to the beautiful waterfall and the big waterhole thing it falls into. Glorious.

I may add a second installment of this list at some time, especially as I explore the world of not-constant-symptom-ness and what is possible in it. You can do anything is a foolish adage for the chronically ill – but am I going to let that stop my imagination running wild? Hell to the no.