I got up this morning feeling unaccomplished. I’ve worked since I was 14 and not being able to do so now makes my stomach turn. I had been out of work for 2 months after my school closed and I was twiddling my thumbs. Once again, confused about my education and the career I wanted to take on.
While I was teaching I’d finished 2 medical programs and decided to just keep going. I was soon to graduate, when my health turned sour. I was a fish out of water. Gasping for air and looking for someone to save me. Depression hit hard. As a result, I sought counsel. My weeping heart managed to get a hold of some anti-depressants and anxiety pills. A doctor actually prescribed them. I knew exactly what to say. I was ill, out of touch with reality, and I felt no need to go on. There was nothing wrong with me mentally at all. I was lazy, tired, and more than willing to give up. The devil was afoot and I was about to let him win.
I took the pills for about a week until I started to feel like my insides were jumping. I was rocking and shaking like a crack head with Parkinson’s Disease. I was worse off on them than not. I flushed them down the toilet and turned to God.
I was confused because since the start of 2009, I formulated a 2-3 year plan. It was all or nothing. By the time I was to turn 32, I would have completed the credentials I needed to adjust to today’s economy. Stepping forward the next year or so I would find myself a job and settle down.
Now, life happens. That is true . Though this time when life happened I didn’t just through in the towel, however tempting. I wanted desperately to say forget it and get back on disability. I was sure they would give it to me in a heartbeat because of my wavering consciousness and physical deterioration. Still, I waited for an answer from God.
In the meantime I started to write. I wrote how I truly felt, those feelings you dare not expose to the public. I also wrote about the changes in my life, and how it may affect those around me. There I revisited my times of failure, success, and illness. I revealed things about myself I had yet to realize. For the life of me some of the things placed on those pages I can’t remember even writing. I also never felt like I had that talent until I’d looked down to realize I had written 2 full books.
Now the year of 2010 is nearing its end. I have suffered from pain and disappointment. Having fallen, I was filled with the determination to succeed. Dusting myself off I cracked open my books and completed the assignments due. I continued to write as I was awarded medical leave from school. I was given a chance to finish without attending. Via online I took my assigned tests and turned in my work. Subsequently, I will graduate a week earlier than the rest of my peers.
7 weeks left in my program. I am ready to place a check by this achievement. There was an answer from God as well, 5 books now complete. Throughout the two months of depression, I locked myself in a cave. All I had were my thoughts, a pen, pad, and my laptop. My smart phone served its purpose well, as I waited for my doctor to call me during my frequent visits to the hospital. Out of all this my books have been accepted for publication.
I skipped a very vital part of this story. I didn’t have the courage to submit my work. It all started when I was teaching at the Y with two of my fellow directors. Two different sites two different co-workers, now very good friends of mine. Not last but not least my fiancé’ which believed that God didn’t have me sitting up all those nights, clicking and clunking around on this laptop of mine for nothing.
He told me that I should submit my work to be published. I thought that was hilarious. I was in school. I had my plan ironed out to a T, why confuse all this with a side-job that I may not have time to continue.
I began to question whether my sickness played a hand in Gods plan. Don’t ask me what he was doing or where he was going with all this. I am just a vessel. So I wrote on. I put together a manuscript of my first work. a small motivational book which told of my illness, fear of independence, and morals. A simple map that I had made to render my own lack of esteem to profit towards a willingness to accept accomplishment. I ran out to staples in my snowflake pajamas from the Christmas before and had it bond. After of course I placed a copyright on my written material. I made three copy’s and rushed one over to my grandmothers for aunt Staci to read, and one to my mother. I kept one for myself and later gave that one to my brother.
After getting some feedback I decided to do some research on the whole publishing bit. There were several ways to go. So I self-published my first works. 4 weeks later I received an email from a traditional publishing company with whom had interest in publishing my book. Now afraid, I stepped back and sat on the email for another week. I read my book over about three times. I decided that it wasn’t good enough and ignored the offer.
When the agency didn’t hear from me for about a month one of the gals decided to send me another email. She asked if I had looked over the contract, and if I had any questions. I of course had made my piece with the whole writing business. I had packed all of my journals away, and turned my focus to finishing school.. The rules could not be broken. That was the promise I had made myself for 2010. I had to finish what I started no matter what. It wasn’t about the money for me, It was about becoming a reliable person.
We all say what we want to do and become but; life does get in the way of genuine thought out plans. However, often when the smoke clears we still sit and allow the dust to cover our dreams, thus they become deferred.
Moving back to the heart of this story, I finally took the time to sit down and listen to God. I also found the time to calm my nerves. I had been writing so much that I thought my brain would explode. I was so fearful that this time would be the end. I needed to finish these works so that I had something to leave my children. I don’t know it may seem weird but becoming something big has always been an issue for me. I could taste it. Again it wasn’t the money. Not many authors become flourishing bestsellers and or have movies based on their books. Unless they were famous first. Most fund their own novels and biographical memoirs.
One day I was taking a shower, which seems to be the place where my good plots and ideas derive. I found myself jumping out of the shower, and running into my room dripping wet. I had to get back to my computer. The plot thickened as my fingers fought to keep up with my mind. I was so afraid I would loose it. I nearly started to cry. In that moment I knew that I had a passion for writing. I always had. I failed to realize it because I was always in search of something else. I am elated about the fact that I have found a way to effectively convey messages, I can dream big. Not that I couldn’t before. The difference now is that I know what it is I am dreaming about.
2010, has been a year of awakening for me. A time to stop talking and start doing. I am happy to say that by the time I hit 32 my education will be complete. I may take a class or two just to keep up with the times. My writing will also be a career of mine that is secondary to my stable pay, but it will serve as a great way of self counsel. I used to think that my background in psychology was for not. It turns out medicine and the mind go hand and hand. It put me a step ahead of everyone else. The mind is a very beautiful thing. Use it wisely.