Depression is my motivation

I sit here Saturday night, exhausted but hopeful.

I’ve been fighting massively with depression the last two months. It’s still there. Depression never really goes away. It’s a lot like an addiction. However, the past few days there’s been light. It’s like being in a lake with weights and you’re swimming as hard as you can, and you can see the sun. You can see the surface.

You have two choices.

Give up. Let the weights drag you down to the bottom of the lake. Not necessarily suicide. Self-pity, despair, hopelessness. This is easy to do, even though it hurts so badly. This is the default setting.

The other choice is to find purpose and struggle up to the top. Shed the weights, though it’s so difficult. Reach up, kick your legs, be a bad ass, and reach the surface. Breathe in the air. The struggle never stops. You keep wading water. Yet at least for a while you can breathe.

For whatever reason I’ve become more and more motivated to workout. I think it’s God pushing me because He’s pretty awesome. At every step there are more reasons I want to workout, and with the weather being tolerable, I think I might go for a run. I stretched tonight. From there, I’ll find a workout routine. I’ve been researching a few the past week.

Depression has also been smothering my writing. It’s made it difficult, stagnant, and uninspired. I watched some good wuxu tonight (part of the workout kick), and it inspired me. It was beautiful, majestic, and mystical, a combination few cultures convey as well as China.

I hope your struggle with depression is going well. I hope you’re still struggling. If you’re in a funk, I hope you rest up just long enough to fight again. Much love to you and your struggles. You have a purpose, hang onto that, even if you can’t tell what the purpose is. I promise you have one.

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Demands of Father

Muric walked down the corridor, naked under the cloak, wandering idly as he let his mind roam back to the night he married his wife.

It was in the ballroom of his father’s castle, where everything was lavish. Women poured in all intent on meeting Muric, to claim him and his castle as their own domain, to chain him to a bed and have him put child after child in their bellies. There had been many balls, and every time Muric remained on the edge of the party, barely getting to know the girls. His father would ask if he found a future wife, and Muric would say none interested him.

The years passed, and Muric’s father became more insistent, “Man doesn’t breed keeping his eyes upon the past. Move forward. Find a new womb for your seed.”

Then there was the final ball. Muric stood aloof in a corner with his friends when his father approached him. “Muric, look at the women in this room. Pick the most attractive. You will marry her tonight.” His father’s red face drove his friends off.

“But father….”

“Enough pining for some bitch. I don’t give a damn what your criteria is. If you want some youthful maiden or some smoldering temptress that has likely seen more than a few turns, I don’t give a damn. If it’s based on her face, tits, wealth, I don’t care. But you will not dwell on past mistakes, you will look at one of these and you will marry her tonight. And then you will go into her and give me some grandsons.”

“But father….” Muric hadn’t let her go. He gave her too much and held nothing back to give anyone else. Only too late did he realize she took everything and gave nothing.

“No, boy. If you do not marry this night I send you into exile and if you are found wandering any of the kingdoms bending knee to my banner, you will be executed. Now look around, speak to them if you must, and find where you’ll start plowing.” Then father walked off, putting on his happiest face, carousing as he did so well.

There was a woman with hair the color of sunshine, straight and long, with two braids going from her bangs to the back of her head. She had a delightful form, far more beautiful than any he had held previous, with ample breasts which were not overwhelming and hips that a man could hold firmly while making love. Her emerald eyes were a rare treasure indeed, and color he had lusted for in youth. It could all be his.

Within thirty minutes of the scolding, he marched up to father and said, “That one, there. I’ll wed her.”

Approvingly, his father nodded, and the priest was summoned.

Walking the dark halls, remembering the past, Muric mumbled, “That one. Like you were chattel. I’m sorry, Jessica.” He continued his walk.

Kelst and Ayne Deleted

Did I always know this would be the path for this story? Was it inevitable? It’s been over a year. I’m still hurting, especially this morning. Took her about a week before we broke up to replace me. I know, we’ve heard it. But it’s why I don’t think I can ever fully write the story The Devotion of Kelst and Ayne.

So Kelst and Ayne, which was supposed to be published last year, has been scrapped. I deleted it from my computer, from my emails, and there are only a few people out there with the full manuscript. I still have copyright on it, and I think I’m just going to let it slip into the ether.

The story was my hopes and dreams, in a fantasy setting, of me and my ex. Things went very wrong and the more I wrote, the crueler Ayne became and the harder the relationship became. I would rather not have that happen, having to relive the most emotionally painful experience of my life over and over, in a manner that’s a lie. I know how weird this sounds, but I generally write fiction in order to process reality, and the two no longer mesh in any fashion.

The story is important to the history of Mercer, the world they’re in, but I think it’ll be myths of the past and no one is quite sure what actually happened. Some will say it happened as originally written, where Kelst and Ayne were in love and remained together until the end, founding the town of Kelistus and having numerous children.

Some will say they had two children, Jaden and Belle, and then Ayne left him, wandering off into the distance for a number of reasons no one truly knows. Perhaps she met a stranger who romanced her. She no longer loved Kelst. With children, she felt like all her amazing potential was reduced to being a mother.

The final myth will be that she didn’t take Kelst’s hand at the most crucial moment. He was killed on the spot, not willing to leave the woman he loved. The city Kelistus was created by other political refugees in honor of Kelst, having him die a martyr. Ayne marries a powerful and influential military leader and lives a life of luxury.

I’m pretty sure if I continued the final rewrite, the second story would have become the truth. Kelst eventually would have sought out to find her, perhaps finding her in the midst of the undead invasion, finding love again before they died. Or he’d find her as an undead and kill her. Depending on how I was feeling that day.

Good luck with your writing. I hope it’s being more productive than my own. In good news, I have cover art for G’desh. Very excited about it. Captured the old Arabian art style I really wanted. Hopefully it’ll be attention grabbing.

Sleepless

It’s a little past 2am. A blessing is the illness I thought would be crippling today was only inconvenient. I’ll take that. The curse is it’s past 2am, and I don’t want to lay down. So I’ve decided to write a poem. Then I’ll take my Zzzquil, think happy thoughts, and pass out, drugged and happy. Tomorrow I should be near 100%. So then it’s time to get my crap together, work out, and get writing. Did do some planning for role playing tonight. Have my next two days of posts set up. I think they’re kind of awesome. It’s not as dour as I’ve been. They’re happy and hopeful. Anyway….

Poetry Poker: Dismay, uncertainty, shame, tension, hostility. Bahahaha. I think I get this theme. I picked the perfect one.

Sit here at my PC pondering all there is,
Dismay takes over, I think of what was.
The future holds me in its claws,
Uncertainty to its core. But what can I do
But push on, allaying the shame the touches
My temples, increasing the headache.
The tension builds until I can feel the
grip of malice on my heart, leaving a
Shadow where once there was a light.
Hostility overtakes, and I cannot sleep,
For all I can think are mischievous, vile,
Villainous thoughts. I’ll take my drugs,
I’ll halt my mind, create a placid lake,
Even if only instilled when addled.

Burned

First, I want to thank everyone who checked out other authors from my site! I think I had seven hits to other web pages through mine, and that’s something I’m happy for. So when you’re done reading, or even when you get bored, pick a picture to the right and click it. See what they’ve written.

“Grandpa, I burned my hand.” Ellie went to her grandpa while he worked in his garden, her hand throbbing. There was a red mark on the palm.

“Is that so?” Her grandpa took a knee and looked it over. “You did burn it. How did you do this?”

“I touched the oven.” She looked away, twirling back and forth, holding the wrist of her burned hand.

“Were you not warned the oven would be hot? Grandma is readying tea, child.” Even as a young girl, Ellie knew grandpa was leading her to what he thought the logical path. It was, of course, but she would never say so.

“Yes.”

“Those who listen to those whom have learned will be filled with wisdom. Those who do as they like must learn a life time of information on their own.” He kissed her forehead. “Do you remember what to do about a burn?”

She nodded and went into the garden, bringing back a plan. Grandpa smiled and it made the girl forget the throbbing in her hand for a moment. Then he said, “Do you remember how to use it?” She shook her head, looking away again. “Give it to me, dear.” Grandpa took the plant and cracked it in two, a salve oozing out. “Now give me your hand.” She did as she was told and he applied the salve. “Remember, sweet pea,” he touched her nose, “There is the path we try on our own and the path we take with others. When you take a path with others, you’ll….”

But Ellie’s eyes opened. She bolted up in bed and looked around. “You’ll what,” she muttered. Ellie was in her early twenties, living with her grandparents for the time as she figured out life. It had been difficult, and the dream seemed to almost hold a key. Then there was the sound of a boat’s horn in the distance. “No, it’s today. I can’t be late.”

She darted out of her bed, shuffling around her room for clean enough clothes to wear outside, and took off towards the dock. It was the day Royce left. She had to convince him to stay. It would be okay. He couldn’t go. She needed him. He needed her.

Royce was helping Lena with the equipment. There were numerous crates of goods, both rations and for read outs. Royce shouted, “Bring it down there. Be gentle with it.” The box was marked FRAGILE.

“Royce!” Ellie shouted out after him and he smiled and nodded to her, then finished putting down the crate. Lena was watching, sighing, shaking her head, but she said nothing before getting back to jotting down notes. “Royce,” she ran to him and hugged him as he walked down the gangplank. “I thought I missed you.”

He grinned and kissed the top of her head, “You will miss me.”

“Where are you going?” She walked alongside him as he continued to check the crates and signified another to be picked up. The crane started his way.

“To the north.”

“Ylinsk?” She intentionally bumped her arm against the back of his. His body was warm. He wore a tee shirt and shorts with sandals. Ellie was wearing jeans with a tank top. He winced and she pulled back.

“No, farther. The mist north of Ylinsk cleared up. That was the earthquake last week. They say it’s a body of ice which was shattered at some point. We’re finding out what lives there and why it’s shattered. You should come with.”

“You should stay.” She touched the back of his forearm and he visibly shivered then let out a grunt. “Please don’t go.”

“Give me a reason. I can’t wait here as your back up. Pick me or him. I’d rather you pick me, but if you’re not going to, I need to keep moving.” The crane lowered over the crate and Royce attached it to the box then gave a thumbs up. “I want to be with you. You’re the one keeping me at arms length. Why can’t you leave him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Horribly. You’re right, he’s as good for you as I am. You likely praise us both equally. Why do you need me around, then?”

“Because you’re an amazing man.”

“Not amazing enough.” He made his way up the gangplank and the gangplank was retracted. “That’s the last of the cargo.” He reached out a hand, grinning. “Leave here with me. Be with me.” Lena was watching, glowering at Ellie. Lena was a close friend to Royce. Too close as far as Ellie was concerned.

“Don’t go. I can’t go with you. I need to stay here.”

He retracted his hand, landing both feet on the deck and smiling, blowing her a kiss. “I love you, Ellie. I’ve been a fool for you. But there are big things to be done. You can come along or wait here. If you need me, you know where I’ll be. If you want me, come get me.” He bowed dramatically and laughed, going over by Lena. Lena crossed her arms and scowled.

***

Lena shook her head when Royce approached her. He shrugged, “What’s wrong with you?” His smug grin was still there on his face as he took out a snack bar. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“You wanted to take her along.”

Royce nodded, his eyes becoming glazed over. He looked back to the harbor, and there she was, still standing on the pier, a single person on an empty dock. He waved and she waved back. More than likely she was crying. Royce couldn’t afford to. Not now. He wanted to, though. “I did want to take her along. I want to take her along on my life and marry her. Have children and raise a family in a Volden pleasing way. I want to sweep her off her feet and convince her I’m the husband she’s looking for.”

“You’ve tried hard enough.”

Royce nodded, the smile on his face fading, “Truth. Maybe one day she’ll try.” He shrugged again, “But it’s not up to me and I can’t stay here, waiting and hoping. Time to do something great, and if she wants to be a part of it….”

“She’s not going to be. She does this to you every time and you become useless. Keep your head here in the game. You won’t see her for a few months, anyway.”

“Truth on that as well. I’ll still miss her and love her. I’ll still desire her more than anything Volden’s given me in this life. But until she desires me in that way, there’s no use staying here.”

Lena nodded, “Some sense. And you’re far enough away from her not to get dragged back.”

Royce’s chest was tight. It was the truth. This made sense. This was the right move. He still wanted to cry. He still wanted to jump off the boat and swim to her. But as long as she had another man, it wasn’t fair to anyone for Royce to stay. If she wanted to marry him, she would make the effort. She would jump into the ocean and come to him, or at least they’d meet halfway.

He shook his head, “We should focus. What do we know about the ice? Is there any information?” And so Royce and Lena planned.

Waiting on the Porch

Dustin sat on the rocking chair overlooking the expansive prairie. He rocked back and forth, watching the horizon, chewing on the end of a long piece of grass. A sigh was released. “Damn it. What am I doing?”

“Wonder that myself.” Grandpa came out onto the porch. “Been wondering that for some time now, boy. What are you doing here?”

“Pondering.”

“Well aren’t you full of shit. Boy, what are you pondering?” Grandpa sat down next to the boy on another rocking chair, using a cane to rock him back and forth.

“Something’s wrong. I was supposed to be motivated. Was supposed to just explode forward again. Wasn’t supposed to hurt like this.”

“Ah, so you’re waiting. Hasn’t been that long, boy, you’ll be fine. Hoping she’ll come to you this time?” Dustin nodded. “Women don’t chase often, son, and you’ve done a great deal of chasing. Maybe it’s time for you to go out there.”

“To find her?”

“No. To find you again. You found you and let it get muddied up. Go clean your damned self off, boy.”

Dustin nodded, “I’ll be back.” He went into the house and came out shortly after with a backpack.

“What are you doing with that, fool boy?”

“I’m going out there.” Dustin shouldered it and started to walk down the stairs.

“To find her?”

“To find whatever God meant me to find. If she does come back, ask her to wait. I won’t be long.” With that, Dustin started walking towards the horizon and into the unknown.

Apparently this is where Dustin is going! Going to be in CT Wednesday and have a free day, so just might take a hike here.