News!

So a lot of stuff has happened in the past few days. Namely I’ve been offered a job teaching at an esoteric school, to teach via video conferences, and I’ve discovered and decided to join the Aquarian Tabernacle church and enroll in their seminary program for clergyhood!

So first off, the teaching! The teaching sort of fell from the sky, actually. I contacted someone I knew quite randomly to say hi and boom! They offered me the job (as they run the school). I thought seriously about it, but decided that this would be entirely feasible for lil ol disabled me. So I am in the process of agreeing! Papers need to be signed and sent around, but my mind is made up. I had also done a tarot reading on the subject a few days ago and it seemed entirely favorable! So that’s fun!

In this school I will be making the courses up. I choose the topics, run it past the head, and then once j get the go ahead, I teach that material for a year. Yes, I am fully intending to do a course on mental health. Y’all will be invited, I will share the link here once I do do that course!

But for now the courses i will give will be on slightly easier material, like… magic in history (for which I plan on doing a mega ton of research) or the art of discernment (also research, but less academic).

The courses are unfortunately going to be paid, so I wont be able to give yall free access, but that will pay me and eventually get me financially on my feet (hopefully!).

As far as the Aquarian Tabernacle church goes, I actually found them because they shared my giveaway post! I then investigated them, and was like lo! Behold! A wiccan church that is getting organized and doing stuff like I’d love to do! So I got very excited and contacted them. And wow! They answered! They were nice! So I ended up attending some coffee chats online with them and yeah, I really like them and their mindset. I think their course for clergyhood will be a great growth process for me!

Finally, today was the last day of my birdie giveaway! I am a bit relieved, as it was stressful trying to organize posts and people (many of whom didnt quite do as many posts as I hoped). But hey, it’s a learning process. In a few weeks I’ll do my second giveaway for my ya fiction novel!

But for now, I’m going to close by sharing a nice selfie I took when I put makeup on yesterday for my video calls. I have to say, I do really like the look and enjoy seeing myself with a beard and makeup. It’s very euphoric for me and I feel great! I cant wait for my beard to fill in more!

So for tonight, have a great time lovelies! I love you all and wish you all the best 😊💕

Aggressive Self Care

Apparently it’s a term my psychiatrist had never heard before. Aggressive self care. But it’s what I’m trying to do, haha.

Lately, I’ve been trying so hard to take care of myself. If it was a technique, or a strategy, it would definitely be called aggressive. Proactive at the very least.

I’m trying to make myself actual food. No cake for lunch kind of deal. I’m trying to drink water. I’m trying to do the five daily prayers as a way to consciously take 5 minute breaks of zen. I’ve even been trying to limit my desserts and only take them when I self care.

So far, it’s been helping. I’m getting back on my feet. Im trying not to push myself too hard to write though, hence my not cranking out so many words lately. Im very sorry for anyone who’s looking for some of the Circlet story. I just cant seem to write it, and Lage’s story is just coming to me easier these days.

I have been working on my children’s activity book too, and am about halfway through it. It’s going to be huge (to me, haha)! Its going to be over 70 pages of activities and colorings to do! All pagan themed! I cant wait to see what you all think of it!

What else has been happening in my life? I’ve been coming to terms with some difficult things, family wise, as well as trying to spend time with my loved ones. Rough things are happening, but we will get through this. I’m really just trying to heal right now.

Also, I’m working on a special birdie project that means so much to me, but it’s a secret so far. At least I dont remember posting about it before, and dont plan to until its finished and I can finalize it. Knowing me itll take quite some time to get it done, but it’s in the works. Good things are coming, yall.

Finally, I want to say thank you to everyone and anyone who has bought my books. I am very touched by all the sales I’ve made, and am considering celebrating them by offering signed books for a price. Would anyone be interested? Or some bookmarks?

I’ve been thinking of holding a contest for my birthday, where I could send out a book to one winner, bookmarks to the second, and something else to the last one. Would anyone be interested in it if it was a writing contest? Or just a “share the page and like” sort of contest? Give me your thoughts! I miss hearing from you all!

I hope you are all very well, and wish you all the best in these hard times ❤

Feeling Better Slowly…

So today I managed to do an array of things, among which was (drumroll) painting!

Yall, I’m working on a tarot deck, and it’s going to take me forever to do, but I’m loving it. Its adorable, cute, and aimed for children.

I know, children and tarot? Who will buy that? I dont know, and I dont quite care. I love what I’m doing, and I think it’s going to be a good deck.

So, I managed to do some writing and painting today, mulling over some advice from my wife about adding texture in and whatnot. Which, resulted in the below picture.

Y’all, it’s unfinished, and its from Ranger’s story, which I am still working on in the background.

Anyways, I’m not sure what else to say, apart from thank you all for being patient with me. I’m finally getting back on my feet, and I’m really looking forward to getting to do more gardening and writing (I did a teensy bit of gardening today!).

I would love to be active in the social rights movement (Black lives matter, loss of lgbt rights in the states, etc) but I just cant. I can barely upkeep with my showers, so please, forgive me for not being that active. My heart is with the protestors and all who are struggling, but I just cant right now. I need to put my own facemask on first, to try and be useful later on, which sucks.

Thank you for sticking with me. Much love y’all ❤

Author’s Rant and Update (SPOILERS)

Hi everyone! I hope you have all been well. I’m sorry I haven’t been posting personal updates much recently. Things have been quite busy lately!

Writing wise, I’m very pleased with how the stories are coming along. ‘Welcome to Circlet School’ is turning into a fun story. Hopefully it will be pretty straightforward and won’t become too complex (but that’s what I said about Chaoss story too, so hmm).

I’m so happy to be able to write Chaos again and even more happy that Kuryos spirit is still alive. Will he be able to find a body? What will happen with the Academy? I’m pretty excited for it, but too tired to write more today.

That’s a thing as well. I’ve been so tired lately from having to function like a normal adult. I’m actually writing this in bed on my phone, because I cant cope with my computer right now, I’m that tired.

Anyways, I hope y’all are doing well and that you are enjoying the stories! Take care 🥰😍🥰🤗

Depression and Writing

Depression is hitting me hard. I think it’s my symptom/condition that I have the hardest time accepting. It’s not glamorous, it’s never fun and never makes you feel special. It always makes me feel like I’m worthless and useless. As an author, this preys on my natural beliefs.

You see, I tend to see myself as a vessel for my stories. But combined with my depression, I feel like nothing BUT a vessel. I feel like I’m nothing without them.

The sad truth is that writing is my whole life. It’s me. It’s been my refuge since childhood, where it suddenly filled a void within me that hurt so badly until then. Ever since I started writing, my days rotate around it. As a kid, I would squeeze it in whenever, would draw my characters everywhere, and obsessed over them.

Now, I wake up thinking of my novels. I spend my mornings wondering what I’ll do until I get the chance to write. My whole day is just spent waiting until the right time to write. I know I dont have the mental energy to write all day, but I wish I could. Already I love writing 5 hours a day, and feel bad if I “waste” even one of those hours not hammering out words.

I know this isn’t healthy, but it is what it is. My writing is my life. The only other thing more important is my wife and my relatives. Literally, unless it’s a basic need, everything else feels secondary. I dont want to travel, I dont want a career, I just want to be good at writing and do my stories justice. I want to accomplish what this drive in me is calling for.

But when depression hits, as it does now, I cant write. Every word hurts, I cant think, and then everything that makes me ‘me’ seems to crumble away. What use am I if I cant write? Not being able to write for even one day is a terrible blow. What if my stories are terribly written? What good am I if i can’t get my stories out there properly, to those who need to read them? I know it sounds dramatic, but not being able to write feels like a poisonous sin that will destroy me.

I know, in some way, that my belief of me being just a vessel for writing is bad for me. I need to see myself as more. But how do I do that? It’s like seeing yourself beyond an addiction, in some way.

And then, what’s wrong with this view, if it gives me purpose and value, even in some small way? I know I should see myself as more, but what if I dont feel like more? I feel like so much in my life just points towards writing, and like it’s the cornerstone of my life. Where would I be without it?

I know, in some factual way, that I am a person without my writing. I’ve experienced that, by having my spiritual projects. But… I just feel like more with my writing. I feel this compulsion and a sense of destiny and being attuned with the universe when it comes to writing. Is that a symptom of a delusion? I dont know what to think some days.

I guess I cant hope to find other people who feel this way. I’ve hoped, and as of yet haven’t found other writers who seem to have this weird perspective and obsession and maybe even delusion with their writing. And yet I hope. I feel lonely, a lot, so isolated with my writing. It’s not the only way I connect with people, but unless someone dips into this part of me, do they know me at all? Will I ever find that I am not alone in this weird feeling?

“Attack of the White Clouds” Chapter Six Part Two

As we climbed lower and lower down the grassy knoll, Ch- began to speak. “I understood you,” she said softly. “You wanted to investigate this village, and especially the deer. For signs of the White Clouds. Am I correct?”

I nodded hastily, my teeth clattering in my haste. She nodded curtly to herself in satisfaction. A sneaky smile flitted across her features, then vanished. She lowered her voice. “I trust you to tell you this: that I do not trust that seer, and I do not trust the others for trusting her. They are fool-hearted for doing so.” I startled at her divisive thoughts, and suddenly realized that she was seperating me from them for a reason. Her head dipped closer to me. “And I also know you could not tell them of this, even if you wanted to. So listen to me.”

I gaped, my legs slowing. Her hand gripped my shoulder and dragged me along. “Someone must have sacrificed that deer. It is no animal or beast who places things in such ways, or who does rituals of the kind. Do you follow? That means there is someone alive who did it- in the wake of the White Clouds, in the wake of our people’s disappearance. Look at it! It is not that old! A week at most. That is plenty of time for that seer to have found her way to where we met her.” At that Ch-‘s eyes drew narrow and her jaw set. She released my shoulder as we began to wade into the murky and filthy waters towards the body of the deer.

I fixed my eyes upon the deer. True, all the trappings of ritual lay about it. A hasty sacred cord, the throat slit the proper way. Yet how could one person have conducted it alone? A ritual such as this required three: a hunter, a butcher, and the prophet. I shook my head as we neared the animals’ hoofs. The beads in my head rattled and I touched Ch-‘s shoulder gently with the tips of my fingers. Her scales were warmed by the sun. Immediately, as if i had branded her with fire, she whipped around ready to defend herself. I held her gaze and shook my head purposefully. Then, slowly miming the speech she had taught me, I told her that we should not cross the sacred cord. Illness would befall us. Then, I lifted up the three fingers and pointed to the sacrifice. “Th-th-three,” I blurted.

“Three what?” she asked harshly.

“Th-three,” I insisted. But I did not know how to mime these words. I did not know how to force them out right now either, or how to convince Ch- that it could not have been the seer, and that the poor seer probably never came here because her robes were neither soaked in mud nor blood. And that meant that we were not alone. There was at least three out there- leaving sacrifices to spirits which were not eating. And what did that mean of our gods? Had they too been eated by the White Clouds?

I wrung my hands over my trident at that. Could it have eaten the gods as well? Were we truly that alone?

Ch- scowled. “I wish you could speak,” she snapped before wading away. Over her shoulder she said snarkily. “Gurgle or moan if you find something, you fish!”

The insult bounced off my careless scales and left me unmarked. Instead I wrung my hands and watched the floating and bloated body before me. What if… My mind scurried to conclusions and possibilities. What if the sacrifice was not done to our gods but to some other spirit? There was only one way to find out.

Wading around the corpse I stepped onto the jutt of earth it was perched upon. Someone had scraped up this earth so that the body would appear to float above the waters. Certainly not the work of one person. It would have taken a single person days to set up this alone!

Ch- would not have known this, but in these sorts of ceremonies the symbol of the deity to which the animal was sacrifice was inscribed upon a leaf. That leaf was then stuffed into the wound in order to summon the deity to their feast. That leaf, right now, was poking out of the deer still.

I bit my tongue. There was no crossing the sacred barrier. However, the leaf looked loose. With a sweep of my leg I sent a wave of water crashing over the body. The leaf trembled, wobbling in its spot. Again i swept my legs. On the third try the leaf came loose and swept away from me. I scrambled around the sacred circle and sloshed after it. It skirted away as if hoping not to be seen, but I caught it in the prongs of my trident as it rode the current away. Scooping it towards me, I could finally see it.

A deep green still, it was covered over its entirety in wax that protected it from the elements. Even the blood of the offering had not clung to it too tightly. Yet the symbol that was inscribed into it remained, burned magically so as to never be erased. It was one that was foreign to me.

Carefully, I scooped it up. Perhaps the seer would know, I thought. Perhaps Ch- would comfort me and scoffingly say it was one of the desert’s benevolent gods. Anything would be nice, I supposed. Because if it was not one of the gods of a tribe, then this cloud with an eye inscribed in its center could only mean one thing.

After that i did not go far. I could easily see Ch- angrily battling against the knee-deep waters and exhausting her fury against them. By the time she returned her legs dragged against the water’s hold and her shoulders slumped. “I did not find anything,” she called out. “But thanks for not looking.”

I held up the leaf I held carefully in both hands. “I looked. I found.”

Ch-‘s jaw dropped. She sloshed forward in a hiss of angry splashes and curses. I held the leaf aside as she floundered towards me, then offered it as she stood before me with water dripping down her face. Ruefully she wiped her face with a hand and snorted aside before looking at what I held.

“What is that?” she asked, but there was no anger to her voice. Only the cold tinge of fear could be heard.

I pointed to the deer. “Sacrifice.” I had had time to calm myself, to rehearse and choose my words. “In the deer,” and I pointed again urgently.

“Attack of the White Clouds” Chapter Five, Part Two

D- stepped to her side. Her arm passed around the seer’s trembling shoulders and drew her in for a tight embrace. In a low murmur she spoke of how it was the season of the marsh’s red colouring. That in the desert, it was the season for travelling and crossing. How in the plains, it was the season for the first growth. “And it has been nine months since the White Clouds arrival,” she added softly. Her hands now rubbed up and down the seers’ shaking arms. “When do you last remember?”

“Nothing,” the seer said in a hollow voice. “Nothing.”

“You remember something,” CH- said sharply.

“Nothing, nothing. Nothing! No-”

D- shushed her, leaning back to hold eye contact. “We are the season of the marsh now. That is all that matters.”

The seer shook like a leaf in the wind. “Nine months,” she whispered brokenly.

I began stepped back from the seer. In a sidelong glance I gestured to Ch- to come with me. D- stayed, comforting her and keeping her mind in the moment. Ch- followed me, grumpy as she stamped over twigs and underbrush. Her hackles were raised, her fangs bared.

“That seer knows something!” she hissed as we drew to a halt in the clearing of the White cloud. “She must!”

“But what?” the words slipped from me. It took me by surprise. It had seemed so effortless. Now, of a sudden, it felt impossible to speak a sound more. I wrung my hands. I gulped and tried to form the stories, the words to frame every picture and thought. It was hopeless. I shrugged and lifted my hands in the gesture of not knowing.

Ch- scowled. “If I knew, I would tell you! She would have told us! But all we know is that something is not right! She has been missing- how could she not know that the tribes have united? Has she been in league with the White Clouds?”

Or she was one who was taken and now she’d returned. A shiver of excitement ran through me. COuld it be that we had met our first survivor? Wondering this I stared away from Ch-. I took in the trees with their red trunks. Took in the whisperings of the wind and H- stalkign towards us. “Here they come,” he murmured under his breath. we stiffened and turned. Indeed, D- was approaching. Their arm was around the seer, walking her as one would walk a frail or sickly person. As they approached D- beamed with pride and the order for us to echo their happiness. I put on a large grin in hopes that I would be right. Let this be our first revenant. Let this be a surivivor with some clues.

“Welcome the new member of our party, Ale,” D- said proudly, patting the seer on the shoulder.

“Welcome,” Ch- said most unwelcomingly.

“We-w-w-w-,” I nodded and gestured wildly in greeting. H- chuckled and greeted her.

“Welcome. As you can tell, our bravest and best can not talk very well.”

“Hm! I speak just fine,” Ch- muttered savagely under her breath. Somehow, that made me smile. Ch-‘s comment, albeit insulting, felt harmless and boisterous. Charming, even.

“Ale will be travelling with us,” D- said cheerily. “I wish us all to get along.”

“We will,” H- said solemly.

I nodded, once again stuttering through the words. My sweaty palms wrung over my trident as if squeezing the words out for me. “W-w-wwe will!”

“Hnh,” was all that Ch- said. “We shall see.”

D- drew in an exasperated breath at this breach of politeness, but what was to be done? The seer turned pale beneath her scales, but did nothing. if anything she drew closer against D- for comfort.

And so, Ale was added to our group. Little was known of her. She walked huddled in her robes as if cold or frightened. That first day, we left the tracks of the White Cloud and continued onwards into the forest. Our pace was much slower than the frenzied rush our tribe had fled with. Now, we’d not even left the reaches of the mountains and trees by nightfall. As before during the day, we drew camp hastily but not in the marks of the Clouds. This time we nestled the tent in shadowy safety and made sure to light no fire.

The seer was put in the tent to rest wholly through the night. Us others took turns in watches of two to dwell awake. It would have been a relaxing time if somehow it hadn’t been so fearful. The air seemed tinged with danger. The birds refused to sing, and the crickets wouldn’t play. H- was crouching a few feet from me while I stood and looked around for any signs.

“I can’t sleep,” Ch- said as she threw her blankets off her and rose ingratefully. Beside her, d- was sleepign fitfully. With a scowl and huff Ch- rose and walked soundlessly to H-‘s side. There she crouched next to his hulking form. “What’s the matter with this place? THere is no sounds, no breeze, no bugs.”

Indeed, I realized with alarm, even the bugs seemed to have fled in fear. Whatever was wrong?

“We are walking into a trap.” Ch- said. Then, pointing to the tent, she lowered her voice. “It is all since she has arrived. The birds flee our arrival. The animals of four legs turn away at the sight of her. Even the trees don’t want to touch her. Something is wrong, and it is her.”

I tilted my head to the side, but did not know what to think.

Author’s Rant!Communication is Key!

Oh my goodness folks! I wish I was posting what I’d written, instead of the beginning of the story! Because oooh something has happened and I’m all ‘ErmahGerd!’. Much excite! Much squeals!

It’s dramatic. It’s juicy. It’s – aghhh. I want to tell y’all but I don’t want to spoil anything!

That being said, I think this shows me that I really do love having immediate feedback when I write, as well as getting to squeal over the developments with y’all. But! You have now all met the seer. What do you think of her?

I remember when I began writing this story, I was surprised by the main character’s autism. I was shocked again by the introduction of the seer, another person who is disabled. They were interesting and fun to write, completely out of the norm (and that’s really my favorite thing to write!). Through the seer, I understood the plot of the story.

Y’all, the WHOLE BACKSTORY of this novel is wound up with that seer. I didn’t know any of this until I wrote her parts and I was all ‘ohhh, that’s how this story happened’. At least, that’s what I was revealed then. The story isn’t finished yet. Who knows? Maybe I was wrong. But so far, everything is adding up. I just hope it’s got a satisfying ending to it.

Which brings me to another point about this story. Holy crap -> nothing gets explained, does it? I’ve just wound up a section and wow, there’s this magical city and like, fuck all is explained about it. Why it does the things it does? Nope, no explanation. Just – it does what it does. That’s it.

I mean, as the author I understand how it works, but it’s like the story doesn’t ‘need’ or ‘want’ it explained. It’s just… not part of the story’s ‘vibe’ for it to be explained. It’s somehow all ties in to the theme of communication and speech in this story. It’s like, unless the characters go out of their way to communicate (and even when they do) communication and understanding is just – shaky at best? No one, no one, and No One in this story understands and knows the same things as each other, all due to communication! It’s like everyone has their own small perspective of things, and no one ever gets the full picture – because no one can fully communicate with each other. Agh! This is massively frustrating!

I never thought of how frustrating it must be to have speech impediments. Now that I’ve worked on this story and seen how the main character just never gets understood – I think it must be exhausting. Like a clamp on the spirit that you can never outgrow or move beyond. So restricting! It must be exhausting to live with!

Anywho, how are y’all finding the characters so far? The story? What do you think of the White Clouds? Give me your thoughts!

 

“Attack of the White Clouds”; Chapter Four, Part One

Ch- stayed behind, chattering with the others. “Wasn’t that easy?”

“Only for you,” H- grumbled.

“She can talk now! Now all we have to do is understand what she says-”

“It’s about the same as before, it’s just that now you are listening,” D- said sweetly, like a knife no one saw. Ch- silenced suddenly. The plodding sound of their feet caught up with me. H- and D- came to stride at my sides as if protecting me while Ch- sulked beside H-, then lagged behind. She no longer seemed bursting full of ability.

When we reached the forest’s edge she turned her back to me and began looking away in her own directions. This track of the cloud was large, a wide chasm of nothing that had been torn up from the earth. Bedrock had been bared, and torn apart sections of roots jutted up from its crevices like arms searching for their loved ones.

The damage we stood in was thirty feet wide, the edges cut and jagged like they’d been sawed with a dull knife. There, sometimes several feet deep, the topsoil could be seen from the side. Roots had been shorn clean. Stones had been cut in half. Up above, the canopy had similarly been sliced away. Not even a twig extended beyond the edge of the carnage. Not one splinter littered the ground we now stood in.

It was an aching emptiness. A void unlike any of us had ever seen.

“What can we hope to find here?” H- murmured. “There is nothing.”

Exactly, I thought to myself, crouching to scour the earth. These cuttings, this sharpness- it was the work of those sharp sand-like particles that had blasted us when we braved its attack. And yet- hadn’t it been pushing, not drawing up?

I straightened, the question suddenly strange. If it had blown its attack, where did everything go to? As I looked around, it seemed strange. All this work- it was the work of cutting, of a vicious blade plunging forth- then how had it drank everything up? How had it taken away even the dust of the earth, even the last splintered twig and torn leaf?

Worse, how could i ask this question to my friends? Hesitantly I turned to Ch-. She was busily ignoring me, her back showing her picking at the cut edge of the earth. Her fingers caressed a stone sheared in half. Gripping my trident and wringing my nervousness into it, I called to her. The guttural sound of her name was difficult but short, so it was manageable.

“Ch-!” and it was out. She turned, eyebrows mocking me in their disinterest. I bit my lip, then waved her over. She came, painfully slow and uncaring. Half-way she made a show of looking at the earth and scuffing her foot as if she’d found something. Then she stepped to me with a nod acknowledging me. “What is it?” she asked bitterly.

I began swiftly gesturing. We, earth, white cloud, it all came in a flurried burst that, by the look on her face, wasn’t making much sense.

“Wait, wait,” and she gestured gently. Slower, she signed, slower.

I bit my lip, jittering. They had to know this! I tried again. Ch- watched my every move fixedly, a gaze she certainly watched her prey with. Still, at the end she was not certain. “Try again,” she murmured. “Your hands are all over. Present? Or past?”

I did not know! Biting my lip I tried again. This time Ch- mouthed my words silently, assuring me that she had understood. “White cloud, attacks, earth, takes…. all this,”

I nodded, then took a deep breath. Calmed myself. Then, I set my hands before myself.

But the words evaded me. How could I explain all this? This overwhelming question that seemed so strange and confused- but I tried.

Ch- worded, but already it was not right. “Cloud, attack, takes all?”

I shook my head. No, it took! Took! Again, I tried.

“Everything, to the sky?”

Alright, that was a good start. I nodded, and signed to her that-

“So why?”

No, where! Where! Biting my lip, I stamped a foot. The crawling irritation I’d so long ago chased from myself was returning. I wanted so bad to have them understand- I needed their help- and yet they could not understand! Everything was a simmering mess, locked into my own body.

To avoid screaming in sudden frustration and giving in to the roiling mess, I flopped myself to the earth. Crossing my legs beneath me, I cradled my head in my hands and pressed my eyes shut.

When I opened them, Ch- was crouching before me. Watching me with frowning concern.

“Do you want to try again?” she asked softly. I shook my head. Then nodded. what else was there to do but try?

“Okay, so,” she held up a hand. “Why don’t I try?” and she repeated my gestures, guessing at the meaning. “The clouds come and take all. All, to the sky.”

I nodded. So far, so good. A glow of eagerness came over CH-. “Okay,” she breathed, then held up her hands in the gesture of non-knowing. “So… why?”

I shook my head.

“How come?”

Oh, nearly! The first half! I nodded, then shook my head. Ch- tried. “No? Yes? How-” I stopped her with a hand, nodding furiously.

“How? How.” Ch- nodded proudly. “How.” As if it was a great accomplishment.

Bravely, I continued. Speech felt closer now and I ventured a word forth. Then another, with more gestures. Finally, a sort of conversation was flowing. It was spattered with my occasional words and filled with wild gestures that made Ch- smile and even laugh. What felt like hours later (though it really must have been a short time) Ch – slapped her thigh and stood. “I’ve got it!”

D- and H- were far away, picking at the roots jutting from the wall. They did not turn until Ch- called again. “She has spoken!” then she left me to run towards them, chattering about my question.

All that for one question. Exhausted and tired in some bone-aching way, I rose to my feet. It had taken so long, It made me envy them as they chattered away so swiftly. As they gestured, not to make themselves understood but merely to emphasize. How they could communicate so easily. Their thoughts were hardly trapped within them.

Ch- was still explaining. “The cloud attacks, sending out what seems to be white sand, correct? Yet where is that sand? Not a trace? And look- it has taken away everything. But how? How does it blow out, and that is all we’ve felt when we were attacked by it- and then everything is gone? Where do these things go to?”

D- and H- were interested, throwing approving glances my way as I approached. Gliding into their tiny knot of presence I stood by Ch- and D-‘s side. Hastily, I gestured for us to search. Gloating like a hen displaying her chicks, Ch- translated my words.

“She says we must search. She believes that if we can learn where it takes these things, we may learn the crux of its power.”

“It’s stronghold,” D- said in surprise.

“But it,” H- hesitated, shaking his head. “It has magic and powers beyond our comprehension. We have been searching and it has left no tracks. What can we possibly find? We need to learn how to defeat them.”

“We will find out how,” Ch- said firmly before turning to me. “If your plan does not work, we shall try mine.” Though her words may have been meant to comfort, they did not. Rather, they seemed to be saying that once my leadership failed, she would gladly take over again. I shrugged. The jug came to me. I was certain that whatever I was meant to do, I would succeed.

And so we walked on, I leading the way and choosing whenever we would pause to search for the minutest detail that may hold the key. In this way we stopped often, as I wanted us to investigate the slightest difference in the cuttings. Anything may hold the key- and yet one came running straight at us. Hardly a subtle sign.

It began at first as a cawing of birds, strange and hoarse. D- rose from a pattern she’d been investigating upon the rock. We’d been finding signs of these all over, in broken ways. It was as if a seal was stamped, but only parts of it remained. And now this strange bird-

“That is no bird!” H- said as it grew louder. Instantly we lifted out weapons, stepping together for safety. The sound rose, hoarse and shrill. Warbling, even. It came from the south, and a staggering sound akin to the loping of a wounded animal came with it.

A black figure appeared, stumbling through the woods- and it fell into the carnage. Straight upon its face. The wailing, now discernible as that, continued. We struck our fighting poses- only to see the figure of a seer rise before us. It was one from the drier planes, clothed entirely in black with metal bracelets- and it wailed as it ran.

“A vision! A vision!” she screamed, plunging towards us. “I see them!” Half-way towards us the poor fool tripped and fell on her face. Sobbing, she cradled her head and did not move. I lowered my trident and stepped towards her carefully. As I reached her side I cleared my throat.

“Hello,” I managed with surprising ease.

The figure scrambled up. Her face was delicate and pointed, blue scales shimmering over her hued with red- a half breed. I recoiled in shock. Where were her wings then? Any born of the red hue had wings, yet hers were gone.

Her slate blue eyes were huge, the pupils tiny and slitted as she shrieked at me. “A vision! A vision!” and in a flash she drew a blade and plunged towards me. Easily I deflected her and tossed her aside, flinching as she collapsed again.

“A seer?” Ch- said as she stepped on the poor woman’s hand to stop her slicing anyone. “Left behind?”

I shook my head. “Survivor,” I whispered.

Ways to Self-Care (ideas)

I need to be kinder with myself. Lately, I’ve been pushing myself to do so much, to perform so well, that I’ve been overlooking my successes and beating myself up mentally. I want to work on my novels, draw pictures, work on my birdie books, all that in the same day as well as functioning like a non-disabled person. Which I know I can’t do. I just can’t. I don’t have that many functioning hours.

Today we went out to get my meds and I was so anxious 😦 it makes me see just how bad my bad days lately have been. It makes me feel like I still need a service dog. Even just sitting in the car while my wifey drove (which I normally can do without stressing) was making me anxious. Because, hark! Curves were coming up! What if we took the ditch? Yikes! It was depressing.

However, once we got home and I realized this, I’ve decided to be gentler on myself. So I’m going to only do what I can do, and celebrate that. But how? Like, I can sit here and be all ‘yeah, I’mma be kinder with myself’, but what steps can a person actually take to be kinder on themselves? Here are my steps that I’m going to (try) and do in the next little while.

• Set more realistic goals.
  • I tend to overdo it on the goals thing. I want so much done, and I want it all done well, and super fast. But life and disability doesn’t work that way. So I need to aim for less, so that I can actually succeed.
• Listen to my needs.
  • Maybe not cut out all the sugar. Maybe allow myself some sugar, to, you know, live. Lately I’ve been on a ‘I must lose weight’ binge, which is actually really stressful. I need to get a better relationship with food.
• Take concrete time to rest.
  • For me, I think I should rest more in the mornings. I have no concrete ‘rest’ time. I keep telling myself that I’ll rest in the evenings, but that’s when I do my writing, so… I have no down time.
• Not overload myself.
  • I have a new commission coming along, as well as one underfoot, as well as all my writing… I sense that things can pile on quickly! Thankfully, nothing has definite due dates. In order to help with my workload, I’ve been very transparent that the artworks will take time. So far, no pressure, and I’m getting them done. But I need to keep that ‘no pressure’ and not heap too many more things onto myself.

I think, really, that the most important thing when it comes to self-care is to break it down into concrete steps, whatever that means for you. For me, this is enough structure, but for others it may involve more strict scheduling, complete with agenda markings and reminder stickers. But the important thing is to have steps. To know how you will take care of yourself, because if you just ‘wing it’, you might not get it done at all, and with self-care that just shouldn’t happen. You really need to take care of yourself, be it by taking pajama days or having a nice coffee date with yourself every so often!

Well, I hope this has been helpful to some people. For me, I find it useful to put my ideas out there and write them down. So, hopefully this will mark a new period of self-care and less self-imposed stress!