Letter to My Readers

My writing is about to take a turn, but I'm not going anywhere

Hey everyone,

It’s been a bit.

I kind of shut down after learning the results of the U.S. election last month. It’s one thing to be disappointed and angry. It’s another to be worried about your mental health and survival.

Back in 2020, I dealt with 4 years of Trump’s crap, along with several personal losses, including my mother’s death. The last email I received from my mother commended me on calling out a Trump supporter and doing it with love. “It made me so proud to be your mother,” she said.

In late 2020, I had enough and considered ending my life. I already lost my mother, I felt like I couldn’t see my elderly dad due to the pandemic, one of my brothers had similar mental struggles to me at that time, my other brother lived in a group home with men who continued to work full time jobs in-person during the pandemic, and I worked with the public at a grocery store. I also felt like I lost a country I once loved. I stopped celebrating Independence Day in 2020. I’ve shared my complicated relationship with patriotism several times in my stories.

I was prepared to lose everyone, including myself, and I was very lucky that I didn’t.

I reached out for professional help at that time because I couldn’t leave my loved ones behind. I opted for a virtual partial hospitalization program (PHP) with the hospital I now work for. It set me on the path toward true recovery. I completed it December 18th, 2020.

I honored my dead mother’s birthday with a nice meal and glass of wine at home on January 6th, 2021. Little Christmas. I finished my meal and glanced at social media. That’s when I saw it. Post after post, news story after news story, about those idiots storming the Capitol and Trump urging them on. Telling people my mother’s birthday was January 6th is like telling people her birthday was September 11th. It will never not disgust me.

What I write about can be very emotional. It takes a lot out of me. On top of that, I work at a psychiatric hospital, and that’s very emotional too. I worry about the toll writing my memoir could take on me at this time. I’m also concerned that it’s a self-serving project that might not help anyone. Maybe I’m wrong about that.

But I’m not stopping. I think I just need to switch gears. I’m not sure what this looks like yet, but I have a few ideas. I’m considering focusing on humor writing and/or fiction in an effort to improve my mental health and (hopefully) bring more joy to others. I’m also thinking about sharing heartwarming snippets from my hospital work sans any identifying factors.

Those who are just as concerned as me with the election results could all use a boost right now. I’ll still write about mental health, just in a different way. It might get a little random here until I forge my path, so bear with me.

Thank you for your continued support. One thing I’ve promised myself is that I’m not going to let that asshole rain on my parade. I’m going to be furiously happy, as Jenny Lawson says. I’m going to laugh louder, love stronger, sing like a goddamn canary, act ridiculous, and write some good, heartwarming, fun shit.

Let’s do this. Happy Holidays to you all.