#a month ago i couldnt finish a single assignment

[loxxxlay]

like... i dont think i can describe how certain I am that this original idea is The One (TM) . I always think so when I begin working on an original story. (Even with some fanfiction projects, I tend to think I will never lose interest. "Its too good!" says my brain.) I daydream about the idea day and night. If it lasts long enough, I might even complete a first draft. I might even start edits.

But the thing is... there is always a pattern. My daydreams about the story get bored, and I start daydreaming about sequels. I get frustrated that Im not writing the sequel instead because thats where my daydreaming is at. Thats where my lust to write is at. So my writing of the current story isnt fleshed out because daydreams are never fleshed out. My first draft is shallow and wishy washy and full of purple prose and neglected scebes, and theres nothing to motivate me to work on revisions anymore except the desire to catch up with my daydreams and write the sequel. And eventually, during this period of frustration, even daydreaming the sequels gets boring. Another fancy shmancy hyperfixation of an idea comes along, and the cycle repeats.

Of course, all of my ideas will always be near and dear to my heart, but if I cant daydream about them, then 80% of my inspiration to write them dissipates. Most of the time, I can finish fanfiction (especially if I give up on editing/revising my chapters) on 20% inspirarion. But a novel? Requiring multiple rounds of revision? Of beta and critique? for something with a MINIMUM of 70k words? Of querying and receiving rejection after rejection, and if you even get a contract, youll have to go through even morre countless rounds of edits that are much more severe on the writerly heart? No. 20% inspiration wont do it.

So yeah, I came up with what I thought was another fancy shmancy hyperfixation of idea about Troy and Lola right after reading the Doctrine of Labyrinths series by Sarah Monette.. because wow.. i was finally reading a published book by an author interested in the themes I was interested in! I no longer had to think, "no one will publish a novel with these niche, dark interests," because proof to the contrary was sitting in my lap right in front of me. (@veliseraptor i will always be grateful to you for this rec and if i ever get published, youre top at my list of thanks/acknowledgements)

So I stopped holding back. I took every single thing I loved and I let it erupt into an idea. I was busy with finals week, so I didnt get time to work on the idea, but boy - the daydreaming never ceased. I was thinking about it 24/7. I looked for names that would make me happier and more comfortable to use for my characters (since theyre close to thor and loki's names as a way to trick my brain out of being intimidated). I daydreamed my plot points on a superficial level as always. The amount of daydreaming without writing allowed me to catch and remove elements that I realized I didnt like. It became perfect in my head. (All according to pattern, you see. A shallow, underdeveloped daydreamed idea.)

And then, as I often do, I bent much of this idea in my head to the assignments in my creative writing class. I wrote 10 short stories about Troy and Lola with a dumbed down plot and a dumbed down characterization (because re: short stories). I wrote my first 20k words of the idea. The daydreaming continued. I revised every single one of those short stories *twice*. The daydreaming continued. I submitted them to my prof who gave me super relevant and helpful feedback (his only relevant and helpful advice all semester -_- but thats another story.) My daydreaming started to incorporate the feedback to the original, undiluted idea.

School burned me out. I couldnt write very often. I couldnt work on anything for the next 6 months.

The daydreaming continued.

And this is where the pattern breaks. I came up with this idea and these characters one full year ago, and minus the 10 unusuable short stories, I have not written a single word until this month. A year. Yet no fancy shmancy idea has overpowered it. No loss of interest or boredom (or even frustration at how long its taking to write this fucker) has occurred.

Even more wildly - never in this entire year of daydreaming have I daydreamed about a sequel. Never. My daydreaming sometimes goes to the story's end. It sometimes goes to the story's beginning. Even more wildly, it loves exploring what happens in the middle! My daydreaming isnt linear like it often is - daydream one scene to death and move on to the next. No. each time I daydream about a scene, it fills in details that werent there before. It fleshes things out. It tries scenes from different angles, different povs, different settings. It revamps and reworks the last daydream. It fills in hazy scenes and excites me about plot points that I previously found uninteresting.

In other words, my daydreaming is working WITH me, not AGAINST me and wow...

that is an incredible feeling.

To know that no matter how long it takes to write this, my brain will remain interested. It wont get bored. It will stay with me and help me through revision. It will stay with me even when I go months without working on it.

Like. Ive never had an idea like this and it makes me so happy T.T this is The One (TM) .

#lox talks personal #placeholder writing tag #is this whatt passion not hyperfixation feels like lmao #long post #original shit

[alien-at-the-dinner-table]

Roll for Panic Attack

*Trigger warning: mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts*

I am afraid of a lot of things. Clowns. Death. Answering the door when i’m not expecting it. Sticking my foot out over the edge of the bed at night. You know, rational, normal stuff. But right now, I'm scared of something that feels like it shouldn’t be as scary as it feels. For the 2nd time in my (albeit young) life, am taking online classes at my local community college. My first time was 2 years ago, and it sent me reeling into a deep depression. As ridiculous as it sounds, I never want to get back to that place. Who would have thought, right??? But im getting ahead of myself, so let me explain the past so one can see where the issues in my grimy future lies.

Sophomore year of high school is where our intrepid young hero begins (read in the voice of Brennan Lee Mulligan: DM to the stars). As anyone in a fiery hellscape would do, I explored a program that gave me a glimpse of freedom: Running Start. In this wonderful program, high school students can attend college classes either online or in person, and not only earn college credit, but can be at the high school less. Great! At first, I thought it would be amazing! I love to learn, and I love not being at the highschool. Suffice it to say, I rolled really low on my perception. But my perception got steadily higher the farther I got in the process of applying. I felt like it might be too much. That I might not be able to handle this. But everyone in my life told me, “you’ll be fine! You’re a smart girl! And your so independent!” So I continued on… feeling like something was off.

Cut to a month before Junior year starts. I feel…. Nothing. I’m bored all the time, and nothing really makes me happy. I’m so scared im going to fail college and it hasnt even started yet… To my family, I am the same. After all, I am used to faking emotions thanks to all those years of thinking panic attacks were SUPER normal right! But I began to explore what was happening. Our hero rolls her dice: 18. I realized something that made me break down in tears of shame. I realized I didnt feel love for my family. I knew I loved them, but I didnt feel anything.What was wrong with me? I tried to imagine horrible fates befalling my family to see if I could muster up some feelings then. No dice. (get it? Dice? RPG’s? Shut up this is comedy GOLD) My sister found me sobbing in the garage. Grabbing my mother, they went to see what was wrong with me. I explained how I was feeling, and even voiced my fear of being depressed. My mom wrote it off as burnout. Which to be fair, I don't blame her for. I had been acting just as I always had.

Skip ahead some more. High school is in full swing, and my college classes begin. Things feel...okay. I was taking 2 classes: General Psychology, and Introduction to Art. Psych was tough, and its reading was intense. 1 page took about 10 minutes, so 6 pages: one hour. The professor thought that because we were online, we needed to make up for being lazy and not going to a classroom. We had around…. 120 pages on a good week. Wanna do the math there? Let me break it down for you: 10 pages=1 hour, 120 pages divided by 6=  hours. About. Add to that the 5 hour assignments every week, 1 hour discussion forums, and hour long tests every week. Our total for this class hours per week: 27. Now, remember, I was also taking highschool classes too, and one other class. Also remember that I was 16. With an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. All it took was a month to break me, and send me hurtling towards depression with all the force and speed of a bowling ball dropped from the top of the Empire State building.

Thanks to my natural ability to repress my emotions and fears, my body decided to send a clear message that something was afoot! I began to get full body HIVES. We went to the doctor, and she basically went, “umm wow, that's definitely an immune system reaction…. But you aren't sick…. And you haven't been sick…. So I don't know why this is happening…” Always what you want to hear from a healthcare professional! So at this point you might ask: did any of this alert you to the fact something was off? No. At this point, I was in complete denial that anything was wrong. Surely getting up in the middle of the night to count pages and double, triple, quadruple check that I had planned every single second of my week was written on my planners pages. What did catch my attention, terrorizes me to this day.

I am religious, and I do my best to pray every night. During this delightful stage of my life, I began to ask God to let me die. I asked that when I went to bed, that I wouldnt wake up. That it would all just stop. That way, I wouldnt keep on down this path, suffering. I thought if I quit, everyone would be disappointed in me. What a waste. How pathetic, right? Of course, this was myself talking. But I wanted to die. I didnt even care if I went to heaven. I thought even if I ceased to exist, it would bring peace. Inkey, dark, peace filled sleep. 

This is what scares me. Because I can never get to that place. I hated myself so much. But what was worse was how I felt about my family and friends. I began to resent them a bit. Just a little. How dare they love me! Why do they have to keep me here? I knew that if I died, it would destroy them. I had no illusions that those I loved would be better off without me. While I thought I would cause them shame and disappointment in life, I knew that in death I would kill them with me. And while I might not have felt love as I do now, I never wanted to cause them pain or suffering. Ever. So here I am now. Better, because I can tell you it can get better. Scratch that, it WILL get better.

And now to the present: a full circle of sorts. I am so scared that this course will be too much, that I wont be a college graduate. Please understand: I honestly thought for a long time that I wasn't going to go to college. Not because I couldnt. But because I didnt see the point, at least for the art fields. And honestly I still do. But I know that even with a stupid certificate that I probably could have taught myself all the same information for a 10th of the price, it will open doors for me. And to be perfectly frank, I want to make my family happy. I want them to be proud of who I am. I want to be proud of myself. To prove that no stupid mental illness will take this away from me. Not again. I know I can pass and even excel in a college environment. In fact, during my tenure at Running Start, I was invited to join the Phi Theta Kappa Honor Society.But I want to be able to mentally handle this. I want to be strong enough for ME. I know that finishing this won't make me weak, or if it is too much that it means I am lesser than. But I'm going to try damnit! And if it is too much, then I will stop, or at least work with my therapist to see what would be best for me. 

And so, our hero begins her journey. Roll for Initiative.

#mental health #college #rpg #brennan lee mulligan