From the Darkness

I haven’t been here in a while. For those of you interested in the things I have to say, I apologize. This year has not been the most conducive for writing. At least, my brain has seemed to think so. When I first began Giggles from the Darkside, my intent had been to promote myself and my books. To some small degree I succeeded in doing just that, but during the process of developing my weekly blogs, it became a cathartic exercise for me to, well, exorcise my inner demons and thoughts. It was in that that I think I succeeded beyond even my own unknown expectations. The sad thing is that until recently those inner demons weren’t so demonic in nature. Not that I was the victim of demon possession. No, rather I allowed my demons, my own fears and petty concerns, to take root and grow until they consumed me. You’d be amazed how easy it is for that happen.

I have always firmly believed that anyone who is creative exists in a dual nature of being. We must conform to the world around us and appear to be ‘normal’, while at the same time be true to ourselves, or at the very least true to the ideal we see ourselves as holding. That presents a terrible burden at times to bear. The real world is a harsh, unforgiving place, where right and wrong, just and unjust, sometimes gets lost in the rush to attain that thing all humanity strives to grasp in our greedy hands. For the sake of brevity, let’s call that thing happiness, though security or normalcy might be closer to the truth. Whatever it is, we all want it, and sometimes sacrifice things we shouldn’t to get it.

This year, I am calling a transition year. If you followed this blog last year I think you saw glimmers of what was ahead for me. I myself felt it coming but found myself unable to comprehend exactly what I had coming. If it has a name, I would call it a knowledge of my own mortality.

Children have no concept that life has an eventual end, or God bless them, they shouldn’t. Teenagers and most idiots who live between the ages of twenty to thirty, normally hold some falsehoods concerning immortality and indestructability. It is only when we reach the close of our thirties and the beginning of our forties the truth about our nearing end becomes all too apparent. This year is my turn to face the impending doom call mortality.

2015 has been a depressing experience so far. I have seen people I love pass away this year. Relatives that made up the magic of my youth have lost their struggle with disease and found peace. Same with friends from school and those gained over time. Two more passed into those gentle lands this month. Those losses so close together alone would be enough to stagger anyone to their knees. Such is the purpose of the passage of time. Surviving these loses and continuing on down the road is a learning experience that comes with a heavy price. It costs us our innocence. We pay in full with the vitality of our minds and with the strength of our bodies. And when this journey is all said and done, we depart this world with the weight of living heavy upon our broken bodies. For most of us we approach it alone with only God to offer us comfort in our last feeble moments.

Morose? Yeah, but these thoughts have been thick about my foggy head. I have lost people I love and the weight of that loss sits ever on my thoughts but that isn’t the only thing to wrap itself around me. The immortally of my youth has left my body a little more broken that I’d like. Worse still, the medicine to make me ‘all better’ really doesn’t offer better, just good enough for my trouble. Before you get the idea I’m moaning over the fate dealt to me, I am, but I’m also saying this. I might have thought about giving up over the past month or two, but it ain’t happening. Please don’t cue the Rocky montage. I still have a few issues to work through so any and all prayers would be appreciated.

Why am I telling you this? I could have very easily kept my issues to myself and just faded into the shadows. I dearly wanted to and still do to a certain degree. No, I came here not to gain sympathy but to share my thoughts so that you know you are not alone. The one thing I’ve discovered over the beginning of this year is when life is smacking you around, it is so easy to get into the mindset that you are alone and the things happening to you are a unique experience. Well, it isn’t. You are not alone. People love you and support you. You can’t kill yourself worrying about things to come. I’ll be honest with you, worrying is one of my best worst habits. More importantly, that junk you earnestly believe no one can understand? Well, they can because that crap happens every day to people who don’t deserve it just like me and you. Allow yourself a few hours of regret, melancholy or whatever then move past it. I’ve taken a few months, but that’s because I’m stubborn and heavily medicated. No excuse, but I’m giving it nonetheless

As I sit here wondering if I have the strength to bare my frailties for all to see and post this blog or not, I don’t know what the future holds for me as a writer. The stories don’t rise up in my head like operatic visions demanding to be told like they did when I first began to write. They murmur and lurk behind my fears, as if they are the ones afraid to give voice to the excitement I once felt over the act of creating worlds within my mind. I will admit to feeling like a failure. The listless worry that I write for no one but myself. Then I remember if I write for only myself why fear failure. I am my own worst harsh critic. No, the real failure would be quitting before my own story is told. In life, tribulation is simply the roadblocks that make us stronger. As I sit here doubting myself and my abilities, I have to hold one divine truth firmly in my head. This might be my journey but I don’t walk it either alone or without guidance. God knows the path ahead of me, and will never let me walk it by myself. Whether in Spirit or through the blessings of the people He places in my life, He is there with me. Believe me, I might not be rich, but I am overwhelmed with the wealth of friends who love me and never once allow me to sink into unending sorrow. You know who you are, so thank you for being my strength.

Like I said back at the beginning of this blog, the creative mind has a dual nature. From the darkness light can emerge to overcome the night. I am coming through that darkness and when I get to the other side, I promise you I’m going to be stronger for doing it. Hopefully my writing will reflect that. On that note, I’m going to bring this thing to a close. Hopefully my brain will be my own next week and I can get back to the business of sharing how it feels to be a writer, instead of how it feels to be a writer who can’t write.

Wishing you all a great week, and happy reading!