Posts Tagged With: anxiety

Workshop Rule #1: You do not talk about workshop

Reasons why I don’t thrive in a negative work environment:

1. I start to wonder what the point in trying is
2. I feel like no matter what I do it will never be good enough
3. I compare myself to others and think “I’ll never be able to write like that.”
4. I question my own ability, and capability.
5. Things feel hopeless.

Workshop is like Fight Club.

The first rule of workshop: You do not talk about workshop
The second rule of workshop: You DO NOT talk about workshop

At first I thought this was to protect the privacy of everyone’s writing. We are writers after all, and prone to self-loathing, depression, and insecurity. I think it’s important to respect other writers and their work, and I didn’t want to step on any toes. As I reach the end of the year I no longer believe this. We are told when we arrive “Workshop isn’t a safe place.” I am inclined to agree. Workshop is the land of emotional abuse. And maybe I’m wrong, but I honestly don’t know anyone who has ever thrived in life by being told they suck. In an effort to keep this anonymous, and because I really don’t dislike the establishment or what it’s trying to do, I’m not going point fingers. I don’t think badly of the people themselves, and I’ve learned a lot… from lectures. I’ve also learned a lot about myself, and the person I want to be. And I honestly have to thank the program for that, because had I never been subject to the amount of harmful negativity going on, I would have never realized I cannot morally support a system like that.

I could never look at someone and question whether there was any hope for them. I could never refuse feedback because it wasn’t worth my time. Every person, every writer, that I have ever encountered has value to me. Every story I read has potential to me. No one could ever convince me otherwise, and I could never be part of something that held that view. Not only because I’m terrified that by being taught by people who hold those views, I could become like them, but ultimately because I cannot and will not support the crushing of people’s dreams. Maybe because I know what that’s like. To be told you have no worth, and that you’ll never amount to anything. How deep those words seed themselves inside of you, no matter how hard you try to  keep them out. They take root, and you start to think you can’t. You start to question your own value and the value of your work, and especially people in positions of authority hold a lot of sway, because their opinion means a lot.

And I’ve spent the entirety of my adult life battling through all those bad seeds, and ten years later I’m still trying to push some of them out. The writing business is hard? Well no shit! It’s especially hard when you go someplace to learn and are turned away from that learning because the person who is PAID to do a job that is teaching doesn’t feel you’re worth their time to teach… Unless you’re already talented, of course. And then you get favourites. And the favourites are good. They have so much potential, and can do so much, and get so far. They are worth all the time in the world. And I hate that. I hate favourites. I think I might be a favourite, and I hate myself for it. I hate that someone sees value in my work, but the value I see in someone elses work goes unnoticed. I don’t ever want to leave someone behind. Especially not someone who I believe has value.

Maybe I’m selling myself short. Maybe there is something in my writing. I definitely believe there is value in my writing. That’s why I’m still writing. That’s why I’ll keep writing. But not there. And not for them. Because I don’t want them to get any credit for the writer I’m going to become. Everyone has an epic story in them. Something great, that, given the opportunity, will inspire people around the world. Like J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter. How fucking inspirational was that series as a kid? And it would’ve never survived. Just imagine a world without Harry, Ron, and Hermione for five seconds and tell me how different it would be? So, no. Never. I’m done. Consider me officially weeded out. I will continue to pursue my passion for stage and screen, and fiction will go back to being my pass time. Because fiction is beautiful, and it’s my first love, and I could never see it covered in thorns.

~Kat

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Letting Go Of The Past

This is really long and really personal, but I’m sharing it for the people who want to take the time to read it.

It’s much easier said than done. It’s one of the things I struggled with when I started this journey. The feeling in my heart when I first applied for my leave of absence from work told me I wouldn’t be going back, but I buried that voice inside of myself. I ignored it. I said, “Well, just in case things don’t work out, I can go back to work.” I was scared. What if I failed? What if I was a terrible writer? What if I got confused and I made a mistake and this wasn’t what I was supposed to be doing? What if, what if, what if. I drowned in them. My insecurities were suffocating. Everyone around me believed in me, but here I couldn’t believe in myself. That voice that kept telling me “this is right” faded and disappeared against the screaming in my head that said “be logical” the one that reminded me trying to become a writer was like trying to become a movie star or music artist. It just didn’t happen to people like me.

And then school started. And I was caught up in this whirlwind affair of grades and percentages. The nagging voice in the back of my head saying “what if you don’t make the grade?” I had no backup plan. It was this or nothing. I knew I couldn’t go back. Even though I told myself I was going back, I knew I couldn’t. I knew I was lying to myself and because of that I felt like I was lying to everyone around me. I felt like a fraud. I felt like an impostor. “Don’t worry I’m coming back” and “See you next summer” felt like black clouds over my head. Telling myself we needed the money just didn’t cut it. That incessant voice in my heart kept telling me “you aren’t going back.” And still I ignored it. I didn’t want to be a burden, how would we pay the thousands of dollars we owe in credit card debt… excuse after excuse to try and convince myself that going back to work was “the right thing to do.”

For my entire first semester I struggled with this. When January came I was faced with more than I could handle. Work fucked up so I owed them money, MSP was going to send my bill to collections, my car insurance was due ( another 1100$ we didn’t have onto the credit card because we need a vehicle). How could I go to my husband and say “I want to give up my full time job” when all of these things were staring me in the face? And still that voice in my heart “you aren’t going back.” It ate at my sanity, I lost sleep, felt physically ill, still trying to push that voice down, deeper, back to the volume I could ignore it. And the calendar turned from January to February. May was only three months away. I tried to look forward to work because it meant a paycheque and not having to stress about how we were going to pay our bills every month. It means savings in the bank for when I was back in school again.

But that voice. It just wouldn’t shut up. And then I went to Faeriecon. I feel like “So, I went to Faeriecon last weekend…” has become as famous as “So this one time, at band camp…” because it really was something else. A lot of it was rooted in Pagan traditions. Me and nature and my effect on it and it’s effect on me. Me and whatever great thing is out there. God, goddess… I don’t like calling it by name because I think it’s bigger than that. But my point is, because of someone’s generosity and kindness I was able to go to a special activity that normally costs money and that I wouldn’t have been able to attend normally called The Spell of Desire. The main focus was on the desire of our heart. That thing that we really wanted and the things holding us back from it.

My whole family is Christian, and Christians and Pagan’s haven’t exactly been BFF’s throughout history, if you know what I mean, but whatever is out there met me right in that conference room. That voice that I had been trying to subdue for months came back with a vengeance as a raging storm in my heart. It was screaming at me. In that room, in the quiet, focused only on that one desire in my heart, unburdened by everything else and all the crap from the outside world, the things blocking me seemed so small. In that moment it was so clear to me what I needed to do and it felt possible. It felt attainable, whereas before it felt impossible to me. So I made a plan. When I got home I was going to have a discussion with my husband and sort everything out and I was going to go back to casual at the hospital so I could focus on writing my novel over the summer.

Well the very next day as we drove back to Canada I had a lot of time sitting in the backseat to think logically. And that voice in my heart was completely overwhelmed with all the thoughts in my head telling me how stupid I was to think I would be able to give up my full time line at the hospital. By this time my friends had started discussing Tarot and readings and such and I thought of the untouched deck I had at home. So as these thoughts bombarded against the voice that STILL wouldn’t shut up, I told it I’d do a tarot reading in the hopes of appeasing it. By the time I got home and opened the mail, which included the aforementioned MSP collections threat, I was completely convinced I had made up everything I felt during the session and indeed needed to go back to work in the summer. The next day I grabbed the box that held my tarot deck but never opened it.  Partly because I was just feeling too depressed about the awesome experience I now felt was impossible, and partly because I was scared of what it would say.

For those of you unfamiliar with Tarot it’s basically a deck of 78 cards. Each card has a specific meaning. The whole deck is infused with the owners energy, if that makes sense, so generally, depending on the type of reading, it will reveal those things deep inside of your subconscious. A lot Christians will tell you it’s demonic, but my own experience says otherwise. I mean, I SUPPOSE the demons could be sending me positive messages through the deck (even though “demons” are usually evil), but I prefer to think my spirit actually holds my energy and that energy gets infused into the things around me, including my tarot deck and especially when I’m meditating on a problem or question and infusing that energy into the cards.

Now I haven’t taken out my tarot deck in many many years. So I had to go online to look up a spread and refresh my mind on what the cards all meant. Then I laid them out and just about shat my pants. Literally every card spoke to me on an extremely spiritual level and if I had ANY doubt before, it was pretty much blown out of the water. It addressed EVERY single concern that was weighing on my heart. I am a firm believer god (or whatever you call it) will meet you wherever you are, and I was met even more strongly than in the session at Faeriecon. To give a quick run down it highlighted the thing that weighed on my heart:

It zeroed in on the journey I had been on to get here, and all the hardships I had faced and the subsequent strength I had established. Strength in myself and my ability and how I should be proud of that. The biggest struggle though was being a financial burden to my loved ones. I kid you not it said this “If  further success in creative affair is desired, it often becomes necessary to ask other people for assistance. There is no shame in asking for help…” I almost started crying.

It highlighted the things from my past that were influencing me:

A solid financial base, assured security and comfort. Material success and the things I’ve accomplished on the material plane. How being successful materially can help develop your self-worth but ultimately you need to find a balance between that and your spiritual self.

It highlighted the future:

What to do now that I had received all this wealth. It said trying to hold onto wealth in case you need it later is like trying to capture love in a bottle. It encouraged me to let go and let the next generation take over so they could gain as much as I did. It talked about inheritance and giving it to my successors.

It highlighted the reason behind the question:

It talked about an event that symbolizes the conception of an idea. The brief creative spark that comes to you, suddenly and unexpectedly, and that starts you down the road of a new creative vision. It spoke about fear and how the dark demons I was so afraid of are exposed by my inner fire, and that those demons were me running from myself. It told me to embrace my fear because it was part of me and I could use it to grow stronger.

And finally it highlighted the potential in the situation:

It spoke about good fortune and wealth. It spoke of hard work, and the need to act now. It spoke of a seed planted in fertile soil in which ideas can be planted to mature and grow, and even though it will be a slow growth, the success of the harvest is practically assured.

I’ve never had a reading like it before. Never ever, it was all right there in front of me. Everything I had done, everything I was afraid of, and everything I could accomplish if I could find the courage to continue. So I reached out for support. And the things I was afraid of no longer seemed that big anymore. The outpouring of support from friends and family was incredible. It was unexpected. I literally feel like I could take on the world right now. My heart feels so light, even the things that upset me this week feel small. I know this is going to be a long and even arduous journey at times, but look at everything I’ve already accomplished. So this is me letting go. This is me not looking back. This is me stepping out into the world of my dream.

~Kat

P.S. I have officially started the process of going back to casual. I will not be returning to my full time line. I’m all in now.

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Dealing (or not) with Social Anxiety

Happy Thanksgiving weekend, in Canada at least! I hope all my fellow Canadians have wonderful plans to relax, eat good food and enjoy good company while also getting an extra day off work. Usually missing a day of class means your teacher assigns you extra homework, but somehow in two of my classes I don’t even have homework. I don’t even have any readings assigned. I’m sure this is some kind of first year perk I will miss in the coming years. Overall I’m enjoying school, it’s really pushed me out of my comfort zone on so many levels and that’s probably good for me. I’ve almost made a friend, we sit in class together and that’s the most face to face human interaction I get in a given week (not counting my husband). You might think that’s really awful, but that’s actually really good for me.

I never realized how much social anxiety I actually had until I was tossed into a bunch of classrooms with 100+ people and forced to work in groups with strangers. When your constant thoughts are “Will they think I’m weird” or “If I don’t talk enough will they think I’m stuck up/not interested” and other things that are similar to the general “please don’t hate me I just have really bad social anxiety” it makes it really hard to actually talk to people normally. In the 6 weeks I’ve been in french class I have not talked once, except when forcefully paired with someone else (twice?). They say participation is important, and sometimes I really wish I would speak up, especially when I know the answer, but its like there is a stopper. No matter how hard I try, the words get caught in my throat and I start to have a panic attack.

I just recently started trying to give people friendly smiles. Even saying hello to the person next to me when I sit down is difficult. The profs keep driving home “This is where you will meet friends for a lifetime” and I’m like “If I can meet ONE person who isn’t scared off  by my extreme silence and awkwardness I will be happy”.  I am a social person, so I’ve been trying to keep in touch through social media so that I get some interaction with live human beings, but I still hardly leave my house. This is bad on so many levels because I have struggled in the past with agoraphobia, to the point where the only time I left my house was to go to work or get food and even that caused me anxiety. So I really have to force myself outside!

I guess the point I’m trying to get at here is, how do you deal with social anxiety? How do you learn to have a conversation with someone? People aren’t predictable, it’s not like lines you can rehearse. With the exception of “Hello, how are you”, after that you’re on your own. You have entered into the world of unknown conversation land. And sure practice makes perfect, but you actually need someone to practice with. Somehow there has to be a way to get over the intense fear of people. How do you erase so many years of bullying and people judging you, all so you can make a single friend in a strange city? I haven’t figured it out yet.

~Kat

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Show, Don’t Tell!

That’s right, my first assignment for Writing 100 is Show, Don’t Tell! This is a very popular literary adage, but this is the first time I’m hearing about it and I’ve got to say, I’m having a hard time writing. It seems like most artists have this extremely critical view of their own artwork, whether it’s writing, drawing, painting etc and I’m no different. When I sit in a room full of 130 other young talented writers I wonder how I could ever possibly compete. I strive for perfection, and get incredibly depressed if I fall short, easily slipping back into an air of worthlessness and hopelessness. Now, obviously this isn’t a competition to see who is the best at showing vs telling, but I am being graded on everything I do which sets a standard that I have to achieve. For this class specifically it’s 77% or in essence a B+. If you do not receive that minimum grade you cannot continue with writing in the second year, which completely defeats the purpose of me leaving house, home and life to pursue this dream. No pressure.

So what do I do? I don’t know, I THINK I have something written that is good, that evokes images in the readers mind but my professor keeps emphasizing CONCRETE, SIGNIFICANT DETAIL, and I don’t know if that’s what I’m doing. Am I using too much flowery language? Am I adding enough detail to show the reader the image I intend. Am I evoking the senses? When I say “apple blossom tickles my nose” do you smell the apple blossom? Am I trying to hard by describing an event vs a lone object or single action? The mark I get for this project doesn’t even matter, because as long as you hand it in you are guaranteed 100% on the assignment, and the grade you receive simply shows where your writing stands in the line of expectations. So maybe I’m thinking about this too much? Maybe I should just hand in whatever I have and then at least I know… but I can’t do that. My need for perfection outweighs the logic of the situation.

I’ll leave you with what I’ve come up with so far. Feel free to leave comments to let me know if I have the right idea at least.

This city has been saturated in a muted grey overtone for as long as I can remember. Painful memories that refuse to be forgotten hang like a black cloud over my head. Another day in this dark expanse of metal and concrete would surely find me at my end. I walk to school in the dull morning light, the delicate spring breeze cool on my warm skin. I stop at the bottom of that long, uphill climb, my attention drawn to a silvery sound. Shoulder length brown hair dances as bright pink cherry blossoms float around her like tiny spring raindrops. She looks at me; my breath catches in my throat. For the briefest moment a tiny star illuminates this city that is so ravaged with decay, flooding my meaningless existence with tender affections. I’m filled with a brilliant hope and something deep within my chest begins to stir. The sweet smell of honeysuckle tickles my nose as I approach and we continue up the hill together.

~Kat

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I’m back!!

And as long as I don’t get SUPER bogged down with homework I should be around a lot more regularly. I’m hoping at least 1 post a week, but depending on my work load it might be more like 1 post every two weeks. Either way, I am getting back into my writing groove and am starting to feel more at home in my skin again.

So, update. I have officially moved, I have been through a terrifying and extremely boring student orientation and I just completed my first day of classes today!! I am now figuring out textbook costs because, my god, are they ever expensive. I mean seriously, students are poor, its not fair to charge them so much for textbooks!! I wouldn’t complain so much but I’m still waiting for my student loans to come in. I’ve still got 3 weeks to pay for everything so I SHOULD hopefully be fine by then.

You know when you’re a kid and your mom is walking you down this big long hall to your class and everything is unknown and you hide behind her leg because somehow she’ll protect you from the big scary something that’s waiting to swallow you whole. Well that’s how I felt today. At one point I thought I might be sick right there on the bus, but I managed to calm myself out of a very serious panic attack. I haven’t felt that anxious in a really long time and I would have given anything to have my mom sitting with me on the bus to school. But the important thing is that I made it. I might even be able to pass my courses with the adequate GPA needed to continue, but lets not get ahead of ourselves.

My writing teacher commented this morning about how all of us in the room were the writers who excelled in high school, and how we were now competing with the best. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except I didn’t ACTUALLY get accepted into the writing program because my grades weren’t high enough. So, I’m competing with everyone who is better than me, in the hopes of proving myself worthy of the writing major. I’m not even a fine arts student, although “Operation 4291: Weasel way into Fine Arts” has begun with a wealth of successes! I even received an email about running for the Fine Arts student council rep! Which I don’t qualify for, but they THINK I qualify for it, and that is the key! I’ll keep you posted on this topic in the coming months.

I have two assignments due on Monday for French class. Welcome to Uni, hahaha, they don’t waste any time!  Wish me luck, I think I’ll really need it!  I’ve got a bunch of assignments due by the 19th. I’m really glad I only have 2 actual days of classes, I feel like the other 3 are going to be spent homework-ing!!

~Kat

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Reaching Novel Territory

That’s right! This morning I surpassed 40,000 words. I’m currently sitting at 78 pages of story, which seems pretty surreal to me. I’ve had to start editing every 2-3 chapters now, since the whole thing takes me too long to read through. I remember when I struggled to hit 17,500 words to bring me into the average Novella length, and now I’ve actually hit small novel length. This isn’t going to be a long post, since I’m half way through Chapter 17, but I just thought I’d update you on my exciting news! I am officially writing a novel!! Who’da thunk it, eh? This time last year I was struggling so bad with my anxiety that I could barely go to a crowded restaurant, and now I’m thinking about publishing a book. It just goes to show that you really can do whatever you want. Even if this never gets published, at least I can share it with my family and friends and I can cherish it as a huge accomplishment. No matter what happens I can never regret this. I will always remember this moment and be proud of myself!

~Kat

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