Come back, baby. Rock'n'roll never forgets. in The Tightrope Dance (August 2019)

Thanks, Bob Seger. I really needed to know that I can be old and still listen to crap, yeah?

(Not that I hate you, Bob. Actually, I love that song. But you sure aren’t Bach, are you?)

So today’s question is “What’s stopping you?” Of course, the next question is “from what, dude?”

My life has three major ongoing things at the moment.

One’s my marriage. What’s stopping me from ending my marriage and moving on right this instant is partially the next part of my life - school. Then, there’s parenting. He did make half of each of these kids, he ought to do half the damn work. The rest is that I can’t afford to leave. Yep. I can’t afford to leave this marriage. But I’d like to. There is a small part of my brain that says I’m a quitter if I walk out of this, but it can’t offer reasons to stay beyond the fact that Spouse will be hurt if I leave and that finding a place to be with multicats and multikids is gonna be tough. Family is enfolded here: my kids are gonna be horrified about the divorce thing, but they’re 13, 13, and 16 - they’ll be 15 and 18 then. Maybe then they’ll understand that mom wants a life?

Two: school. I can’t quit school right now. I didn’t come this far to come this far. I am close to the end and I am working full tilt. I want my degrees. I have wanted them years. I wanted them as a teenager, but my ex kind of dropped me on my head, and then spouse showed up and I thought, “yeah, hey, everyone’s always said I’m supposed to get married and have babies, might as well do that thing.” And I did. And it wasn’t everything I am. I’m pretty sure I want a career, I know I want it to be in a social work field, and I am willing to chew steel and spit nails to get that damn degree - and a space in a master’s program for vr. I don’t want to change the world or anything - except that I do, for a lot of people, one at a time. And that’s not a bad thing and I should not be ashamed of it, but I am, a little.

Actually, I’m terrified I’m going to wreck a lot of lives. Holy fuck, the shit I’m gonna be licensed to do. I’d almost rather do surgery than this, but I really don’t like the knowledge that cutting people doesn’t bother me. (I perform a lot of home medicine around here…and I haven’t killed anyone yet.) (I lance boils, mostly. Nothing serious and if I don’t think I can, I make him go to the doctor. I always make the kids go.)

Three: writing. I am relatively terrified to take the next step in writing and send my one finished manuscript out. I should, I know: it’s not a bad little book. (But of course I like it, I wrote it.) If I can’t do that, then I should put it on Kindle or something, right? It’s doing nobody any good where it is.

Money is part of that equation, too. I can’t afford an artist for the cover for Kindle, so I’d make much less if I pubbed there. People don’t want ebooks without fancy covers.

A traditional publisher would provide a cover.

I need to develop some plans about getting to each of these theres from here. I did identify the first publisher I want to try - Knox Robinson, because #1 is historical - but here I sit, not even downloading the submission instructions.

I have a full slate of classes and I am a junior - getting one BA in Social Work, and another in English. I suspect I may use it for grants, but honestly, my logic there is “one for you and one for me.” I think I think that if I have a degree in English, I’ll be a “real writer,” despite the fact that I’m too terrified to query a publisher for real.

How funny, right? I’m gonna pay like 40k someday (kind of) and I won’t do the thing I think I’ll eventually be qualified to do.

I’d consider me hilarious, but I’m pretty sure I’m just sad.

Car continues on sans tire. Really want that tire. Going a tad bit spare here at home. I think I have relatives coming up the 28th. Kitten sees the dentist tomorrow.

Tonight, Kitten says she hears voices in her head telling her she’s a disappointment. I tried hard to be positive and not my mother, but I had those voices too. I was diagnosed with bipolar at 17 or so, and I suspect Kitten has it, too. Except, now they say my bipolar is actually PTSD, from mixed sources - rape, childhood adverse experiences, and Kyrie’s death and subsequent birth, then the crazed nine months that ended in Adia’s birth and the postpartum psychosis I had then. I’m pretty sure my brain’s just substandard or possibly I am a shit human.

But my daughter ought to love herself, so I’m going to call her therapist in the morning (she’s had one years, not because of this, but because of her ASD) and let them know that Kitten is not doing so well. They won’t do antidepressants for a baby under 16, but there’s got to be something she can do, or have, or learn.

And I’ll get it for her. No matter what it is.

Aah, final reminder. If you’re into museums, Smithsonian related museums in all 50 states have a free day on September 21. I got tickets to the Pop Culture Museum, in Seattle: Lu wants to see the horror movie exhibit. You might find something you like in your state. Off you pop.

https://www.smithsonianmag.com/museumday/museum-day-2019/

One email address equals admission for two, so if you’re taking kiddos, pair ‘em up with adults…