So, some stuff has happened in the past week.
As I was logging into my email account last Monday, I remember thinking that today was the day I would receive the response from the literary agent who was reading my book, and I wasn't feeling thrilled. Well it was the day, and it was a form rejection. It took her four months to respond, which might not be a long time for some agents but her average response time seems to be about two months or less. I was expecting at least some helpful criticism, but there was nothing. Just a form rejection. She at least acknowledged that it was a memoir, so it was her form rejection for memoir/nonfiction.
Anyway, it didn't get me down right away. I was still feeling a little cheery, like "time to send out more queries!" I used a new approach: personalizing the query to the agent. I sent out three on Monday. On Tuesday, I checked my email. Two form rejections. This is when I got frustrated. And I cursed the publishing gods and this maddening process of trying to get published. Trying to get published was even more maddening than the time I actually went crazy! I went home and took some zyprexa, as I was overstimulated. I went to sleep.
Wednesday was the day when new hope blossomed inside me. I went back to the writing forum I used to be on. I decided I would post my query there for feedback. But I needed 50 posts before I was permitted to. I just now got 50 posts today, right before I started writing this blog, but it said it might take up to an hour to register that I have 50 posts thus why I am taking a break and writing a blog entry. On Wednesday I remembered that my sister gave me advice about my query. The source of the advice is questionable, by that I mean I don't know if it came from her or from the spirits. See, my sister is more in touch with the spirits, like a hell of a lot more than I am. But I took the advice on this query, and added more to the query I was using. After all, it did get me a full request to begin with, so there must be something right about it. It might be that it's too short.
So I hold onto this hope. And right now all I have is hope. Luckily, all I really need is hope. I thought about it, and there are two things, which together mean I will eventually succeed at this: first off, the spirits have been pushing me to get my book published. Not just me, but my sister too. I was feeling this push earlier this year, but I was skeptical of what I was feeling. Then I talked to my sister, and she said she felt a push to push me to get published. I realized the push was real. And when you believe a feeling is real, that makes the feeling stronger, or so I've learned through experience. But anyway, that's the first thing, which in itself doesn't mean I will be published, but what it does mean is that the spirits know that I have the ability to succeed at this. The second thing is that I have honestly been doing the best I know how to do. I have been giving it my best effort, and I know the spirits wouldn't expect me to do any better than that. Therefore, I will succeed.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Shifting Energy
So it's happening again. I feel my personal energy shifting, and I feel like certain things are going to happen. If I told someone at Innercept about this, they would probably thing I was referring to petty matters like moving into aftercare. Yes, that's going to happen but that's not what this energy shift is about.
Energy shifts are easiest to identify by paying attention to what kind of music you feel like listening to. At least, that's how it works for me. I use music to enhance my mood. When I want to enhance my mood, I face the challenge of having to pick the right song from my iPod. Sometimes I get it right, and I say silently to myself that I made a good choice. Sometimes I pick wrong, and I either listen anyway or pick a different song. Sometimes I get frustrated and give up, I turn off my iPod and remove my headphones from my ears and let them hang around my neck.
The song Unwrittten by Natasha Bedingfield is a meaningful song to me. It's a song about being inspired and writing. People who know I wrote a book would probably think that the reason it is meaningful to me is because I'm a writer, but that's actually not the reason. Rather, it's because of an event that's in my book, where I had to write a livejournal entry. I feel that Natasha Bedingfield wrote this song about me. This song was also making its rotation on the radio during the same period of time that I wrote the livejournal entry, which was during the early months of the year 2006.
I have my set of songs I listen to when I feel like I am the messiah, and then I have the set of songs which remind me of events from my book. Lately I've been listening to the book set, not the messiah set. When I listen to the messiah set now, it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I've also been listening to a lot of cheery music, mostly by female artists.
But music choices aside, I remain frustrated by how long this is taking. Of course, that's what you have to deal with when you're a writer: the publishing process is painfully slow. The life of an agent or publisher is very busy.
I think very highly of the content of my book. Not because of the writing itself, though I've been told the writing is book. But I can vividly imagine this book becoming popular. I imagine it being turned into a movie, only the movie would be about how it would be if my delusions were actually true, so it wouldn't be about a delusional girl but rather about a girl who was the messiah. And most of all, I imagine people making fun of it. But I don't mean that in a bad way, actually it's a good thing. I imagine things from my book becoming overused and cliche.
Energy shifts are easiest to identify by paying attention to what kind of music you feel like listening to. At least, that's how it works for me. I use music to enhance my mood. When I want to enhance my mood, I face the challenge of having to pick the right song from my iPod. Sometimes I get it right, and I say silently to myself that I made a good choice. Sometimes I pick wrong, and I either listen anyway or pick a different song. Sometimes I get frustrated and give up, I turn off my iPod and remove my headphones from my ears and let them hang around my neck.
The song Unwrittten by Natasha Bedingfield is a meaningful song to me. It's a song about being inspired and writing. People who know I wrote a book would probably think that the reason it is meaningful to me is because I'm a writer, but that's actually not the reason. Rather, it's because of an event that's in my book, where I had to write a livejournal entry. I feel that Natasha Bedingfield wrote this song about me. This song was also making its rotation on the radio during the same period of time that I wrote the livejournal entry, which was during the early months of the year 2006.
I have my set of songs I listen to when I feel like I am the messiah, and then I have the set of songs which remind me of events from my book. Lately I've been listening to the book set, not the messiah set. When I listen to the messiah set now, it makes me feel a bit uncomfortable. I've also been listening to a lot of cheery music, mostly by female artists.
But music choices aside, I remain frustrated by how long this is taking. Of course, that's what you have to deal with when you're a writer: the publishing process is painfully slow. The life of an agent or publisher is very busy.
I think very highly of the content of my book. Not because of the writing itself, though I've been told the writing is book. But I can vividly imagine this book becoming popular. I imagine it being turned into a movie, only the movie would be about how it would be if my delusions were actually true, so it wouldn't be about a delusional girl but rather about a girl who was the messiah. And most of all, I imagine people making fun of it. But I don't mean that in a bad way, actually it's a good thing. I imagine things from my book becoming overused and cliche.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Old and New Energies
So I don't live in my apartment yet but I wish I did. Innercept has been jerking me around. I went there yesterday though.
I wanted a double papasan chair. It would be for cuddling. My parents bought me a broken one at a garage sale that they plan on fixing. Right now there is a red double papasan cushion sitting in my apartment where the chair will eventually be. I'm broken when it comes to romantic relationships.
There is random stuff from college sitting around. A cushion that was in my dorm that I didn't use for anything, but I like for some reason. It doesn't match the decor, but for some reason I think it does. But it doesn't.
I have the desk chair I used in college, a cheap one that has history. I remember people who sat in the chair. I remember things that happened when I was sitting in the chair. I'm very sentimental. These thoughts struck me when I was with my mentor and I felt sad.
I have the Rubik's cube I solved at college, right before I became delusional. The solving of the Rubik's cube was symbolic in my delusional world, but in real life I'm not sure what it symbolizes. I have the blue water flippy toy I used as inspiration for my book cover idea.
I have a vase with red sticks that I brought from my room at home. I'm not sure what energy this brings to my apartment. I have a fern that my mom gave me which I named Farrah. I have other stuff too, obviously.
All this stuff sits in my apartment, even though I don't. And the energies combine, and they are creating my new life.
I wanted a double papasan chair. It would be for cuddling. My parents bought me a broken one at a garage sale that they plan on fixing. Right now there is a red double papasan cushion sitting in my apartment where the chair will eventually be. I'm broken when it comes to romantic relationships.
There is random stuff from college sitting around. A cushion that was in my dorm that I didn't use for anything, but I like for some reason. It doesn't match the decor, but for some reason I think it does. But it doesn't.
I have the desk chair I used in college, a cheap one that has history. I remember people who sat in the chair. I remember things that happened when I was sitting in the chair. I'm very sentimental. These thoughts struck me when I was with my mentor and I felt sad.
I have the Rubik's cube I solved at college, right before I became delusional. The solving of the Rubik's cube was symbolic in my delusional world, but in real life I'm not sure what it symbolizes. I have the blue water flippy toy I used as inspiration for my book cover idea.
I have a vase with red sticks that I brought from my room at home. I'm not sure what energy this brings to my apartment. I have a fern that my mom gave me which I named Farrah. I have other stuff too, obviously.
All this stuff sits in my apartment, even though I don't. And the energies combine, and they are creating my new life.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Dreams and Their Pesky Ways
I woke up yelling and groaning from a dream last night. I was staying at a hotel with my parents, but they were still awake. When I woke up in the morning I remembered how I had woke up yelling, I didn't remember what the dream was about at first but then I thought about it and I remembered. There were two people who were the same. I think one was a girl and one was a guy. I was the girl. The thing was, everyone was supposed to be different, so I had to pretend to be different than I actually was. We had a plan about how in the end we were going to reveal ourselves to be the same, but it was nearing the end and it wasn't working out like I had planned, either the other guy backed out or I forgot the plan or it just wasn't working, and I was going to be labeled as mentally incompentent.
This parallels my life weakly but not exactly. Sometimes I relive hard things I've been through in dreams. None of these things happened when I was in treatment. They're things that happened years ago, that I should be over but I'm not. Sometimes it's about my "mental illness," but the thing I'm thinking about was something that happened leading up to the onset.
It happened when I met a guy who liked me. After a few days, I realized that I liked him too. Then he started being rude to me, treating me disrespectfully, and he wouldn't let me hang out with him. And I never got over it. Even now, I'm not over it. I hardly new him.
I feel that my dreams mock me sometimes, by bringing to the surface feelings I would rather were left buried. I lived it once, and it's over. Why must I live it again? I curse these dreams and their pesky ways.
Actually, I love dreams. You just have to admit that some dreams are rather annoying.
This parallels my life weakly but not exactly. Sometimes I relive hard things I've been through in dreams. None of these things happened when I was in treatment. They're things that happened years ago, that I should be over but I'm not. Sometimes it's about my "mental illness," but the thing I'm thinking about was something that happened leading up to the onset.
It happened when I met a guy who liked me. After a few days, I realized that I liked him too. Then he started being rude to me, treating me disrespectfully, and he wouldn't let me hang out with him. And I never got over it. Even now, I'm not over it. I hardly new him.
I feel that my dreams mock me sometimes, by bringing to the surface feelings I would rather were left buried. I lived it once, and it's over. Why must I live it again? I curse these dreams and their pesky ways.
Actually, I love dreams. You just have to admit that some dreams are rather annoying.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Psychic Powers
At the time being, I don't believe I'm psychic. But I believe I could be psychic if I overcome the tendency to see only what I want to see.
I remember one day in eighth grade sitting in science class. We were drawing letters from a hat, or some other bowl or sack-like object, to see which element we would study for are element report. I was waiting my turn, and I was thinking to myself, you know, if I think real hard, I can see into the future and see what letter I'm going to draw before I draw it. So I thought real hard, and the letter H came into my head. Then I drew a letter, and it was an H.
The thing is, I had no vested interest in picking any of the letters. These days, I only try to see into the future about things that actually matter to me. There are times when feelings about things are so overwhelming I know it's more than me just believing what I want to believe. But this is rare, and even then it can be unreliable.
So I am left waiting the painfully slow wait to see if the agent likes my book. If things were a bit more fast paced, I wouldn't have to wonder so much.
I remember one day in eighth grade sitting in science class. We were drawing letters from a hat, or some other bowl or sack-like object, to see which element we would study for are element report. I was waiting my turn, and I was thinking to myself, you know, if I think real hard, I can see into the future and see what letter I'm going to draw before I draw it. So I thought real hard, and the letter H came into my head. Then I drew a letter, and it was an H.
The thing is, I had no vested interest in picking any of the letters. These days, I only try to see into the future about things that actually matter to me. There are times when feelings about things are so overwhelming I know it's more than me just believing what I want to believe. But this is rare, and even then it can be unreliable.
So I am left waiting the painfully slow wait to see if the agent likes my book. If things were a bit more fast paced, I wouldn't have to wonder so much.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
The Secret to Ultimate Happiness
Throughout my life I've been riding the roller coaster of my ever-changing weight. When I was younger I was a bit on the heavy side. The way I felt about this was the same way many women (and perhaps men too) appear to feel about their weight. If I could have only lost a few pounds, I would be perfectly happy and my life would be complete. I mean, this must be true, just go to the supermarket checkout stand and look at the magazines. It's pretty obvious that weight loss is the secret to ultimate happiness.
I lost a bunch of weight when I was fourteen (good old Adderall) and I learned that this was untrue. I was extremely thin, and sure I felt good about being thin, but I think most of it was knowing that I had something that so many people wanted: a skinny body. But I still wasn't happy with my body. I didn't want to be a stick, I wanted to have shape. I wanted a more muscular body, but I couldn't bring myself to get around to going to the gym regularly.
The weight slowly came back throughout high school, then I gained exactly 15 pounds my freshman year of college, which led to a series of attempts to lose weight. By this time I did have the discipline to work out regularly. I was moderately successful at losing weight, but not keeping it off. At one point, after I had worked hard losing 20 pounds, they changed my meds and I gained 50 pounds. But I can always lose weight when I really want to.
Last time I lost weight, it was because of a combination of running six miles everyday and abusing cough syrup. I don't recommend drinking cough syrup as a way of losing weight because the weight doesn't stay off. I got down to 130 pounds on my 5 foot 7 frame, which is actually pretty skinny. Seriously, they talk about skinny women weighing like 105 pounds. They must be extremely short, because I was 130 and I didn't need to lose another pound.
Then the weight came back. Which brings me to my point. Right now I weight about 175 pounds, which is roughly 20 pounds overweight. And I find that I don't give a fuck. Well, honestly I would lose weight if I could and it was easy, but I'm more concerned with weight training. Because I've found that I feel better about myself feeling slightly heavy but strong than I do feeling skinny and weak. Because when you are strong physically, it makes you feel like a strong, powerful person. I feel more confident, and I walk with more confidence.
And I find it odd that there are a lot of women who fear weight training because they don't want to look manly. Honestly, I don't think there is any amount of muscle that a woman can realistically build without the use of steroids that would make her look bad. It brings to mind Britney Spears. I don't know what she looks like right now, but I've seen pictures of her in the past where she was very muscular and looked good, and I would look like that if I could. And even that is unrealistic for most people, because most people don't have a career that requires them to look hot.
In conclusion, you will be happiest if you get your self-confidence from some place other than your physical appearance.
I lost a bunch of weight when I was fourteen (good old Adderall) and I learned that this was untrue. I was extremely thin, and sure I felt good about being thin, but I think most of it was knowing that I had something that so many people wanted: a skinny body. But I still wasn't happy with my body. I didn't want to be a stick, I wanted to have shape. I wanted a more muscular body, but I couldn't bring myself to get around to going to the gym regularly.
The weight slowly came back throughout high school, then I gained exactly 15 pounds my freshman year of college, which led to a series of attempts to lose weight. By this time I did have the discipline to work out regularly. I was moderately successful at losing weight, but not keeping it off. At one point, after I had worked hard losing 20 pounds, they changed my meds and I gained 50 pounds. But I can always lose weight when I really want to.
Last time I lost weight, it was because of a combination of running six miles everyday and abusing cough syrup. I don't recommend drinking cough syrup as a way of losing weight because the weight doesn't stay off. I got down to 130 pounds on my 5 foot 7 frame, which is actually pretty skinny. Seriously, they talk about skinny women weighing like 105 pounds. They must be extremely short, because I was 130 and I didn't need to lose another pound.
Then the weight came back. Which brings me to my point. Right now I weight about 175 pounds, which is roughly 20 pounds overweight. And I find that I don't give a fuck. Well, honestly I would lose weight if I could and it was easy, but I'm more concerned with weight training. Because I've found that I feel better about myself feeling slightly heavy but strong than I do feeling skinny and weak. Because when you are strong physically, it makes you feel like a strong, powerful person. I feel more confident, and I walk with more confidence.
And I find it odd that there are a lot of women who fear weight training because they don't want to look manly. Honestly, I don't think there is any amount of muscle that a woman can realistically build without the use of steroids that would make her look bad. It brings to mind Britney Spears. I don't know what she looks like right now, but I've seen pictures of her in the past where she was very muscular and looked good, and I would look like that if I could. And even that is unrealistic for most people, because most people don't have a career that requires them to look hot.
In conclusion, you will be happiest if you get your self-confidence from some place other than your physical appearance.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Trying to Reason When Your Reasoning is Messed Up
It seems to be of great importance to my well-being to believe that my delusions were more than just the result of a chemical imbalance in my brain.
This is actually a big topic, but I don't have a lot of time to write so I'll try to make this as brief as possible. First off, it's not of great importance to my well-being to believe I DON'T have a chemical imbalance in my brain. However, whenever I have symptoms which resemble bipolar mood cycling, it introduces doubt that my delusions were more than just a mental illness. But it's also relevant to mention that I never have psychotic symptoms.
I don't remember if I mentioned it on here before, actually I think I did, but I'll say it again. One time last summer, I was feeling some doubt about this, so I made a list of 24 good reasons why there's a spirit. I realize now that not all of the reasons are good reasons. Nonetheless, the list convinces me every time I read it that there's something seriously funny going on with my life, and it's not a chemical imbalance in my brain.
But here's the the thing that gets me: Can I trust my own brain? Maybe there is some serious flaw in my thinking that I can't see, because I can't escape the flaws of my own brain and think with a more universal perfect God-like intelligence. But if I can't trust my brain when it comes to this, how can I trust my brain when it comes to making any logical conclusion? One thing I know is that everytime I come to the conclusion that this is more than a mental illness, it's not a conclusion I come to based on emotion, because that would be unreliable. It's based on the facts, because it happens when I examine the facts.
I remember when I was delusional and my thinking was off. I remember thinking, if I am delusional, then that would mean that this certain event (which I had no evidence of) never happened, but I KNOW it happened so therefore I am not delusional! But that conclusion was based on emotion, because I just felt so SURE that this certain event had happened.
One of the things I see when I examine the series of events that lead to me being delusional, and that followed from me being delusional, was how one unusual thing lead to another. Each event seemed to happen on purpose, and I don't believe these events were coincidental. Is this observation I'm making based on emotion? I don't think so, and I feel very strongly that these things did happen on purpose.
And here's where that last paragraph makes me go off on a tangent. Each event had a purpose, and it led to one final event. WHAT WAS THE PURPOSE OF THIS FINAL EVENT?! Lately I've been thinking that it may have to do with the effect it had on the other person involved with this final event, whatever that effect was. Will it lead to another event? I can't answer this because I don't have the answers. Like I've said before, life is about surprises.
This is actually a big topic, but I don't have a lot of time to write so I'll try to make this as brief as possible. First off, it's not of great importance to my well-being to believe I DON'T have a chemical imbalance in my brain. However, whenever I have symptoms which resemble bipolar mood cycling, it introduces doubt that my delusions were more than just a mental illness. But it's also relevant to mention that I never have psychotic symptoms.
I don't remember if I mentioned it on here before, actually I think I did, but I'll say it again. One time last summer, I was feeling some doubt about this, so I made a list of 24 good reasons why there's a spirit. I realize now that not all of the reasons are good reasons. Nonetheless, the list convinces me every time I read it that there's something seriously funny going on with my life, and it's not a chemical imbalance in my brain.
But here's the the thing that gets me: Can I trust my own brain? Maybe there is some serious flaw in my thinking that I can't see, because I can't escape the flaws of my own brain and think with a more universal perfect God-like intelligence. But if I can't trust my brain when it comes to this, how can I trust my brain when it comes to making any logical conclusion? One thing I know is that everytime I come to the conclusion that this is more than a mental illness, it's not a conclusion I come to based on emotion, because that would be unreliable. It's based on the facts, because it happens when I examine the facts.
I remember when I was delusional and my thinking was off. I remember thinking, if I am delusional, then that would mean that this certain event (which I had no evidence of) never happened, but I KNOW it happened so therefore I am not delusional! But that conclusion was based on emotion, because I just felt so SURE that this certain event had happened.
One of the things I see when I examine the series of events that lead to me being delusional, and that followed from me being delusional, was how one unusual thing lead to another. Each event seemed to happen on purpose, and I don't believe these events were coincidental. Is this observation I'm making based on emotion? I don't think so, and I feel very strongly that these things did happen on purpose.
And here's where that last paragraph makes me go off on a tangent. Each event had a purpose, and it led to one final event. WHAT WAS THE PURPOSE OF THIS FINAL EVENT?! Lately I've been thinking that it may have to do with the effect it had on the other person involved with this final event, whatever that effect was. Will it lead to another event? I can't answer this because I don't have the answers. Like I've said before, life is about surprises.
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