A writer, a crossroads, winter, family and horses
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A writer, a crossroads, winter, family and horses
God. I've been a writer so long that I hardly know how to tell the truth, because I always start out telling a story.
I wrote till the tops wore off a dozen or so computer keyboards, mostly on marketing and advertising, writing beautiful pictures of what your life could become.
I have always been a hired gun, and a damned good one. An advertising copywriter. I could write things the devil himself would never have thought of, but would have bought with pure joy. Beautiful things. Compelling things.
My real voice? ..<fear>.. does anyone want to hear?
I get paid big bucks to say things I don't necessarily believe.
I get THE HAND when I try to speak the truth.
No one wants to engage with me, the person.
I want to write about my real experiences, but I'm seeing more and more the avalanche of narcissism in our culture that prevents anyone from seeing things outside themselves.
Christmas: eeek! I just sent over $1700 worth of presents to my ingrate, passive-aggressive family.
In times like these, alcohol seems like a rational friend. Because people... are crazy.
I wrote till the tops wore off a dozen or so computer keyboards, mostly on marketing and advertising, writing beautiful pictures of what your life could become.
I have always been a hired gun, and a damned good one. An advertising copywriter. I could write things the devil himself would never have thought of, but would have bought with pure joy. Beautiful things. Compelling things.
My real voice? ..<fear>.. does anyone want to hear?
I get paid big bucks to say things I don't necessarily believe.
I get THE HAND when I try to speak the truth.
No one wants to engage with me, the person.
I want to write about my real experiences, but I'm seeing more and more the avalanche of narcissism in our culture that prevents anyone from seeing things outside themselves.
Christmas: eeek! I just sent over $1700 worth of presents to my ingrate, passive-aggressive family.
In times like these, alcohol seems like a rational friend. Because people... are crazy.
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Location: Rocky Mountains, USA
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And as to horses:
This May, my beloved quarter horse, Jimmy -- champion and blue ribbon idol for some 25 years -- died in my arms at home in Montana.
I miss her so. This morning when temps dropped well below zero, I mourned her, and praised God that she had the good sense to check out before another dastardly Montana winter. I miss her, though. And I hate myself for not making her last 5 years more fun.
This May, my beloved quarter horse, Jimmy -- champion and blue ribbon idol for some 25 years -- died in my arms at home in Montana.
I miss her so. This morning when temps dropped well below zero, I mourned her, and praised God that she had the good sense to check out before another dastardly Montana winter. I miss her, though. And I hate myself for not making her last 5 years more fun.
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I think there's still a lot of people who want to read about truth and honesty...I read a lot of biographies/autobiographies...I can tell the BS from the genuine ones.
I can tell a good writer from a bad one too...didn't Stephen King say something like if you don't believe what you write how can you expect the audience to?
he also said this...one of my favourite quotes:
D
I can tell a good writer from a bad one too...didn't Stephen King say something like if you don't believe what you write how can you expect the audience to?
he also said this...one of my favourite quotes:
The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of because words diminish your feelings - words shrink things that seem timeless when they are in your head to no more than living size when they are brought out.
Stephen King
Stephen King
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Originally Posted by SamanthaIam 
My real voice? ..<fear>.. does anyone want to hear?
I get paid big bucks to say things I don't necessarily believe.
I get THE HAND when I try to speak the truth.
No one wants to engage with me, the person.
I want to write about my real experiences, but I'm seeing more and more the avalanche of narcissism in our culture that prevents anyone from seeing things outside themselves.
I'm listening. What is "THE HAND"?
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Ah, I knew I could count on my SR people to give me something. Thank you for replying, and thanks Simian66 for the title Bliss. I will dl and read.
I guess all of us in recovery have a moment of facing the truth, where we say WTF!? Like, maybe it's not all about us pounding/pummeling ourselves into drunken idiocy, but maybe that there really IS a crap heap of dysfunction in our families out there?
In other words, for all the years of alcoholism, in the backs of our minds, we *could* say, YES I SUCK because I DRINK TOO MUCH
OR then we get sober, and have to face: Well, indeed, I did drink too much, but my family / other people are right ****** up too!
<NO WONDER i DRANK>
Hmmm. Circular.
Instead of going off on that round track, I guess I wanted to talk about what was wrong, what the problem was ... especially with me. I'm the youngest of 4 in an alcoholic family. I am the People Pleaser, always trying to make right, thinking if I am just good enough, then everyone will be happy!
Raised to think I could make my whole family OK by just being GOOD enough.
But I am finally at the point of asking: what is THEIR problem?
Why'd they always hit me, beat me, hurt me, punish me, shut me out, belittle me, make fun of me? I was just a little kid. I really had no power. Still don't. Yet after all these years, my family treats me the same way.
What did I ever do to them? (no, really, this is what I really, really want to know)
Unfortch, what I only ever learned I guess... was to destroy myself if I couldn't make it right. Not sure about this..
looking for input..
I guess all of us in recovery have a moment of facing the truth, where we say WTF!? Like, maybe it's not all about us pounding/pummeling ourselves into drunken idiocy, but maybe that there really IS a crap heap of dysfunction in our families out there?
In other words, for all the years of alcoholism, in the backs of our minds, we *could* say, YES I SUCK because I DRINK TOO MUCH
OR then we get sober, and have to face: Well, indeed, I did drink too much, but my family / other people are right ****** up too!
<NO WONDER i DRANK>
Hmmm. Circular.
Instead of going off on that round track, I guess I wanted to talk about what was wrong, what the problem was ... especially with me. I'm the youngest of 4 in an alcoholic family. I am the People Pleaser, always trying to make right, thinking if I am just good enough, then everyone will be happy!
Raised to think I could make my whole family OK by just being GOOD enough.
But I am finally at the point of asking: what is THEIR problem?
Why'd they always hit me, beat me, hurt me, punish me, shut me out, belittle me, make fun of me? I was just a little kid. I really had no power. Still don't. Yet after all these years, my family treats me the same way.
What did I ever do to them? (no, really, this is what I really, really want to know)
Unfortch, what I only ever learned I guess... was to destroy myself if I couldn't make it right. Not sure about this..
looking for input..
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Recycle:
THE HAND is a literal physical gesture... when you are trying to be heard, but someone puts their hand in front of your face to silence you.
If there is ever, for any reason, a bronze memorial to me (like if I somehow become a war hero or something) -- it should be Me in All My Loveliness With a Genderless Person Attempting to Hold a Flat Hand in my Face (Miz Samantha Slightly Smirking).
THE HAND is a literal physical gesture... when you are trying to be heard, but someone puts their hand in front of your face to silence you.
If there is ever, for any reason, a bronze memorial to me (like if I somehow become a war hero or something) -- it should be Me in All My Loveliness With a Genderless Person Attempting to Hold a Flat Hand in my Face (Miz Samantha Slightly Smirking).
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I removed myself from my toxic family...from this distance I can see they have no more insight into their motivation, or why roles are assigned, or why things happen, than I do....
I've learned it's not my job to make it right, or them right.
It's my job to make myself right
D
I've learned it's not my job to make it right, or them right.
It's my job to make myself right
D
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I am really sorry about your horse. It's a good thought about the winter.
I have a horse whom I love to distraction, but have ridden him drunk, hungover, and then of course not at all when I was 'too busy' (getting drunk) to drive out to the barn. Once on a horse camping trip I drunk-tied him to a highline and he got loose and wandered all around, while I snored passed out in the gooseneck. They had to raise holy hell to wake me up. Fortunately all he wanted was to check out all the other horses' hay supplies, and even more fortunately, all the horses allowed him to do so in peace. How might this have ended badly? Let me count the ways.
Writing can make everyone into hypocrites, especially if it comes easy. Honest writing is very hard IME.
I like your writing and would like to read more of it.
I have a horse whom I love to distraction, but have ridden him drunk, hungover, and then of course not at all when I was 'too busy' (getting drunk) to drive out to the barn. Once on a horse camping trip I drunk-tied him to a highline and he got loose and wandered all around, while I snored passed out in the gooseneck. They had to raise holy hell to wake me up. Fortunately all he wanted was to check out all the other horses' hay supplies, and even more fortunately, all the horses allowed him to do so in peace. How might this have ended badly? Let me count the ways.
Writing can make everyone into hypocrites, especially if it comes easy. Honest writing is very hard IME.
I like your writing and would like to read more of it.
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Dawnrunner, I've ridden drunk and neglected chores drunk. I know you're sorry, just as I am.
The thing is, we're surrounded by people and problems trying to make it our fault. It does no good to mount a war like this.
Of the many worst things I've done, one was being too drunk to get up for morning chores, to feed my horse when the temperature was low.
This mare rode me to dozens of blue ribbons. I did take care of her, for many years, but there were also many mornings where I didn't do my best duty.
I see the same for my family.
There were plenty of times I did the minimum, but I wasn't the best mom or wife. My husband, well, that's a complicated subject.
The thing is, we're surrounded by people and problems trying to make it our fault. It does no good to mount a war like this.
Of the many worst things I've done, one was being too drunk to get up for morning chores, to feed my horse when the temperature was low.
This mare rode me to dozens of blue ribbons. I did take care of her, for many years, but there were also many mornings where I didn't do my best duty.
I see the same for my family.
There were plenty of times I did the minimum, but I wasn't the best mom or wife. My husband, well, that's a complicated subject.
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Join Date: Mar 2011
Posts: 117
Families are weird things sometimes. I was beaten all the time as a kid by my dad and had all my things smashed up. It's no wonder as an adult I found relationships exactly the same as that. I seem to have confused love with being bashed. Yes, I'm not surprised I ended up abusing myself either!
I guess it's about breaking cycles. I won't let it happen again... well that's the plan anyway! I try to distance myself from all that stuff.
Anyway, give Bliss a read. The story of Harry Joy is such a life transforming fable of sorts. The author worked in advertising for some time, so I think you could relate.
Hoping the last part of this year is not too harsh on us all!
I guess it's about breaking cycles. I won't let it happen again... well that's the plan anyway! I try to distance myself from all that stuff.
Anyway, give Bliss a read. The story of Harry Joy is such a life transforming fable of sorts. The author worked in advertising for some time, so I think you could relate.
Hoping the last part of this year is not too harsh on us all!
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Originally Posted by SamanthaIam
Why'd they always hit me, beat me, hurt me, punish me, shut me out, belittle me, make fun of me? I was just a little kid. I really had no power. Still don't. Yet after all these years, my family treats me the same way.
...My husband, well, that's a complicated subject.
I do my darndest not to give advice, but if you being abused, get out. If you are being physically abused get out now. It does not get better.
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Samantha I am truly sorry that happened. Blame is a pointless emotion. Get help, change your circumstance, protect yourself, and know you are worth it. There is not much I can do from a keyboard except listen.
Om, Aum, Ohm...
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I've mulled over this thread last evening and was thinking of it again this morning.
I've been a writer all my life. Teenage poet, advertising/marketing in my late teens and early twenties and then on to a resume writing service I ran from my home when I was raising kids. Some years ago, I returned to school to write and study literature, got my MFA, taught creative writing at the college level. I have a few publications in literary journals and a pile of readings and conference presentations. Nothing commercial. Oh, and I wrote a book. Still nothing commercial
You'll find several threads here concerning alcoholism/addiction and the creative impulse. There's something about creating something out of nothing, or interpreting the outside world and translating it into text that requires a very textured inner life. So much so that it can often feel like we live two lives--one on the outside and an entirely different one on the inside.
And that can be a little disconcerting. I don't think I'm alcoholic because I'm a writer, or because, like you, I've had a rough upbringing. I believe I'm alcoholic mostly because the way I'm made, I process booze differently than most people. I do think that having that rough upbringing and existing in both the inside and outside world may have spurred my alcoholism along--brought me to it sooner than other circumstances might have and kept me in it longer as I hit lower and lower bottoms.
Anyway...I wanted to reach out and say I get it and to offer you some hope that there's a beautiful life beyond it. Beyond the booze, and beyond the past. And the writing gets better with sobriety. The sobriety, however, doesn't come without a whole lot of hard work. At least, not the kind you'd want.
Peace & Love,
Sugah
I've been a writer all my life. Teenage poet, advertising/marketing in my late teens and early twenties and then on to a resume writing service I ran from my home when I was raising kids. Some years ago, I returned to school to write and study literature, got my MFA, taught creative writing at the college level. I have a few publications in literary journals and a pile of readings and conference presentations. Nothing commercial. Oh, and I wrote a book. Still nothing commercial
You'll find several threads here concerning alcoholism/addiction and the creative impulse. There's something about creating something out of nothing, or interpreting the outside world and translating it into text that requires a very textured inner life. So much so that it can often feel like we live two lives--one on the outside and an entirely different one on the inside.
And that can be a little disconcerting. I don't think I'm alcoholic because I'm a writer, or because, like you, I've had a rough upbringing. I believe I'm alcoholic mostly because the way I'm made, I process booze differently than most people. I do think that having that rough upbringing and existing in both the inside and outside world may have spurred my alcoholism along--brought me to it sooner than other circumstances might have and kept me in it longer as I hit lower and lower bottoms.
Anyway...I wanted to reach out and say I get it and to offer you some hope that there's a beautiful life beyond it. Beyond the booze, and beyond the past. And the writing gets better with sobriety. The sobriety, however, doesn't come without a whole lot of hard work. At least, not the kind you'd want.
Peace & Love,
Sugah
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