When I delved into the world of fanfic years ago I would become engrossed in a story only to see it end abruptly somewhere in the middle of the story. Then I’d look at the last update, which was months, even years ago. I remember the feeling of despair knowing that the story would never be finished. Where did the author go? How could they leave this totally awesome story?! Then it happened to me. At the beginning of 2013 I stopped writing my fanfic story because I didn’t have it in me at the time. I was terrified after being bed-bound for years that my hip would never get fixed. I self-medicated with sitcoms and make-up tutorials. There was no emotional energy for anything else. I did eventually come back to writing fanfic in 2014 before being cyberbullied and deleting everything off my profile XD But I digress. . .
History has a way of repeating itself. I can’t write if I have devoted all my energy to sheer emotional survival. About two months ago I had an emotional and physical breakdown. It felt like life was happening to me instead of me controlling my life. I was given a final warning at work that if I didn’t improve I would be fired. My problem with pharmacy is that I care too much about everything, and that slows me down. I’ve started applying for other jobs and have yet to be fired, but it hangs over my head like a dark cloud everyday. I’ve cried about this more than I’d like to admit.
My hip is still sublaxaing (partially dislocating) anteriorly and not only does it hurt like hell, it means my last hip surgery may have failed. I have been diligently strengthening my hip, but it’s hard because if my muscles get sore they can’t hold my hip together and it sublaxes. On the next few days post-sublaxation I struggle to walk and have muscle spasms. I haven’t talked to Dr. Sink (my last hip surgeon) because I didn’t want to admit that my surgery may have failed. And if one of the best hip preservation surgeons in the world can’t fix me, who can? I’ve decided I will contact Dr. Pun (my follow-up hip surgeon) but it’s not the best time to ask for a day off to go see a doctor. I might be able to coordinate an appointment with her on a day when I have a late shift. *sigh*
In the midst of the chaos, my husband and I are trying to have a baby. I know, it sounds crazy right? But there will never be a good time for me or my body. I also have no idea how long this process will take. I’ve been on hormonal birth control since I was 15 to regulate my periods. Because I’m neurotic and obsessive I’ve been tracking everything XD A pregnancy will make my body much worse, so it’s not such a bad thing if it takes a while :$ The fetus releases relaxin, which loosens your joints. For a normal woman this is fine, but my joints are already unstable and loose, so I might end up bed-bound towards the end of pregnancy.
So I’m trying to come back to blogging, reading, and writing. I think the longer you go without writing the harder it gets. On the plus side I pulled out my suicide story, dusted it off, and it actually still sounded good. Usually if I got 2-3 months without seeing my own work I’m horrified at how crappy it actually is XD I got a new book by Annie Proulx, The Shipping News. I’m more interested in the prose than the story. And I’m simultaneously rereading, The Road. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve read it now XD Familiarity is comforting to me, and McCarthy continuously inspires me. In some ways I’m a bit embarrassed about how little I have written in a year, but I’ve improved more in the past year than I did in the five years I wrote fanfiction. It is what it is. I’ve learned to let go of the anger and resentment directed at myself because it’s counterproductive.