Hiatus

All I do know is that I have written posts sporadically, except for when I attempted to do "Blood Talk" series on the different types of Dark Creatures that litter the pages of my series. But alas, I stopped after getting to the "Phoenixes" post--why? Because school or work probably got in the way or I was in the position of going through lots of changes--which is always true for me.

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When One Chapter Ends...

I've recently taken some necessary steps to turn the next page or chapter of my life if you will, and as such I feel so much more refreshed, focused, and hmm...very much like a writer.

That writing part of myself was stamped down until recently, wallowing beneath some sort of veil I couldn't lift over excruciatingly tired eyes. I was exhausted, mentally more than physically.

But I didn't really know how depressed I was until I had a turning point, realizing where I was in my life wasn't where I needed to be for happiness sake. 

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Finals, Writing, and Anxiety

Fitting that this be my 100th post, it being about the end of things, as it were. No, I'm not ending this blog, but I am ending this semester at college (it's finals week, hence my lack of blogging, and writing. For shame, I know), and for a while now I've been holed up in a whirlwind of anxiety and sickness.

I don't feel well. I don't feel...like myself. I feel scared, tired, sad, and, quite frankly, not good enough. I barely go on Goodreads anymore, I no longer promote TDW or TIG (and part of that is because I'm in the middle of editing/rewriting The Dark World and the version that's up is no longer valid), and I no longer write (much) of The Rather Depressing Tales of Patricia L. Bordeaux.

I haven't touched my laptop in weeks (I'm on my boyfriend's desktop), and any updates I've done have been through the library at college or on my phone. I'm...sad. At ill-ease with where I am, I guess. And I suppose it's due to the finals, the stress of passing my classes, and the stress, I guess, of not having people read A Night of Frivolity. It only adds to my anxiety, my feelings of inadequacy. Now, I'm sure it's being read, but reviewed, it is not. And that's a bit disconcerting.

For all the promises of reading it and reviewing it, I've only had two people come through on it, and yes it's received good reviews, but that's about it.

I know it's all the stress with everything I have going on on my end, but it is the main thing that has been bumming me out about this, taking me away from the utter...mass of criticisms on Goodreads. I remember a time when reading used to be what feelings were stirred in me when I read books, what I didn't like or liked about a book that was only my opinion. Now it seems, with Goodreads, it's been exacerbated and the wormhole's been torn open: everyone has their opinions, especially on vampires (thank you sparkly glitter monsters), and it's made it quite hard to wrap my head around...it all.

I don't know, I guess I'm overwhelmed. I know everyone's entitled to their opinion and we can't really help what the mainstream media has decided will be the next Harry Potter. I just need a longer break. And that's what I've been taking, I'd say, a well-deserved break, before I have a breakdown and just can't deal with any of this at all.

I know I sound utterly mad, and just - I'm not making any sense.

Sigh.

I'm gonna drink some tea and take some medicine and study some more before I have to head back to college for a final.

And for those that have followed my blog since day one, thank you.

For those that have just found it and read this and think I'm an overly sensitive person who can't calm down, you're kind of right, but not always. It's one of those days.

I'll be fine. I'll leave everyone with this:

"There was much I could say about my life, much I could pen down with reasonable time given, but it was terribly hard for me you see. For I was old. Much too old to remember, but still far too young to forget. I was trapped in time...and as much as I never wanted to be, I had no choice. My name is Patricia Lauren Bordeaux, and I, like my creator before me, am a very lonely vampire."

-Excerpt of A Night of Frivolity. Get it today for Kindle.

Keep your bite,

I'm keeping mine despite it all.

-S.C. Parris

Fatigue

  Do you crawl in a ball and let yourself rest?

Or are you determined to push past it and carry on with your day knowing it's going to bring you further down later?

And for the women reading, do you get fatigued when you're close to those red days?

 

I do...or rather I am now.

I attribute my general lack of enthusiam for things and my previous poem War, to my upcoming "female week." And it reminds me how depressed and anxious I used to be on a daily basis. How tired and worn down I would feel, not wanting to even get out of the bed in the morning, no - scared to get out of the bed in the morning, scared to try anything new, scared to live.

I know right? It's sad.

But it was my life.

I attribute it (with better knowledge on the subject), to my small frame, my pumping adrenal glands that work overtime to keep everything regulated (I was premature, people), and I realized only a year or so ago that everything I let into my weakened immune system whether it be metaphorical or otherwise, was taking its toll on me. And it was my choice to let these things happen.

What can I do now but take the consequences and begin to strengthen myself, and I do that by consciously changing my outlook. Granted, some days are better than most with this. As of now, with my period looming, I'm finding it difficult to keep my eyes open let alone stay conscious for most of the day. I'm just that worn out. And don't even get me started on what this has done to my drive for writing. -_- (But I still am...barely!)

But I know it's only temporary and my core - the part of me that can no longer be changed my outside influences and passing fancies - is still there - is as strong as ever while I go through what everyone goes through - life. To let it get to me like I used to is, I have learned, terribly detrimental to my health. And being born 1lb, 10 oz., makes it harder for me to stay healthy from the get-go, but I have been, why?

Love (from family, my other-half, and my puppy). Sticking with the choices I've made. Accepting my reality (everything is what it is, right now, and if I want to change it at anytime, I can).

And taking those five or ten minutes where I can just being with myself.

It's done wonders for my frame of mind, my frame of self, and my immune system. (Vitamins notwithstanding.)

And voila!

Here I am.

Fatigued, yes, but happy about it. For once.

Are you?

(Am still writing The Rather Depressing Tales of Patricia L. Bordeaux and am still editing The Dark World.)

Keep your bite.

-S.C. Parris

Love and other Drugs

It's been a long time since I've had a semi-personal post on my blog, and it's filled my thoughts, so here it is. The love of our craft (whatever that may be), the love of...living, whatever it is that drives us, this has been on my mind a lot lately. I've recently gotten out of a funky state (what I call a state of depression or just a glum-ridden mood), and now I'm more or less of a 'I love life,' mindset once more.

I flip flop on these things time and time again. I've just accepted that it's going to happen, I can't always be rainbows and sunshine and what the hey, I've gotten more than halfway through the editing and rewriting of The Dark World while in this 'funk.' I like to live my life as though every second I have is precious time. And it is. So I try and make every second work for me.

Yes, a lot has happened recently (as I'm sure you all know by now), and I've been taking it all in stride, working on my stories, my schoolwork...etc. and generally trying to spread the word that I have a new short story out. Many have told me they would read it, but we'll see in time, won't we?

(Sigh)

As I sip my tea and stare at my wandering Siberian Husky as he paces the living room floor, I can't help but smile for I am high...on love. The love of writing, the love of my opportunities, recent and forthcoming, and the love of my caring boyfriend, the love of my pain in the ass-sometimes dog, and the love of my life...in general. Life and all the amazing things it gives us.

Like writing.

Words can't express what writing means to me. Upon reading over A Night of Frivolity, I've been so impressed with the state of that work and I can't help but wonder what more I can pen that focuses on a more psychological mind frame.

Ah, I have been reading a fair bit of Bram Stoker's Dracula, and I find myself falling more and more in love with the deep psychological overtones that exist throughout the book (what I've read of it so far), and I really want to expound upon it more.

My hope is that more people read my ebook and want more of the story I've created. I already have the outline, the idea ready, it just takes a special...place in my mind to sit down and write that story.

We'll see what happens.

Go check out A Night of Frivolity now and let me know what you think!

And keep your bite.

-S.C. Parris