I feel like I'm packing my bags to visit another planet.
Today's our last day at home before we start the drive for Indy and my second Gen Con adventure ever. The kids go to school tomorrow morning, and after we put them on their buses we'll be officially on vacation without any responsibilities except the workshops and writing seminars, tabletop games and info booths we've signed up to give some of our time to this weekend.
As a mom, it's always hard for me to leave my kids and travel -not just because I miss them, but because it's hard to find people who are willing to take on such a huge responsibility even for just a short time. I'm super grateful to everyone who's agreed to help us in any capacity (watching the kids, watering plants, feeding and snuggling the fur-babies) so that Mike and I can have this time together.
After all, couples who role-play together tend to stay together. ;)
Tuesday, August 12, 2014
Monday, August 11, 2014
That Awkward Silence
Robin Williams was the kind of actor who could bring out intense emotions through a performance. He could make me blush or hurt from laughing, from the other side of any screen. Seeing the news of his death and the reaction from so many people on social media, I really feel heartbroken.
It isn't a new heartbreak for me, unfortunately, because I've lost friends to suicide already, and I've seen others near me also affected by it. It leaves this uncomfortable silence behind, this awkward space where a person should be, and the feeling that by severing this one connection between you, the deceased person has shaken all your other connections to human beings outside yourself. At the funeral of a suicide, I can feel my own vitality trying to shrink down inside of me and hide from the people carrying on with their social norms and saying all the things they're supposed to say in situations like these.
I'm sorry.
Everyone says it, over and over, until I feel as if saying it myself is disingenuous because it's just a repetition of a phrase that we've all adopted even though it doesn't come anywhere near describing the feeling of hurt and bewilderment and sadness inside. Struggling to come up with anything better is futile, however, because those closest to the person who's gone can only look to themselves and each other for the answers. How can I even speak to them about my feelings, when they are surely struggling with something much worse than my helplessness at what to say to them?
I'm sorry.
Each memory of them is tainted somehow by the knowledge of what has come to pass despite whatever connection we felt in that moment, and the "what if" scenarios play out over and over. What if I had called that last time I thought about them? What if they just needed a good long talk or a hug? What if I had done that and it still hadn't made a difference?
I am sorry.
He will be missed, but the number of lives he touched and the tears and laughter he brought to all of us will live on as a testament to his life. This tragedy should at least be a stark reminder of his struggle, and a catalyst for more open discussion about suicide and mental health. Depression lies, and there's no greater evidence of that than the outcry of so many who were touched by his contributions to the world. Whatever he was feeling at the time, it wasn't the love that so many of us would gladly have shared with him if it could ease his pain.
No one should have to suffer alone when there are resources available to get help. Please, reach out if you ever feel like suicide is an option.
R.I.P. Robin Williams
1951 - 2014
It isn't a new heartbreak for me, unfortunately, because I've lost friends to suicide already, and I've seen others near me also affected by it. It leaves this uncomfortable silence behind, this awkward space where a person should be, and the feeling that by severing this one connection between you, the deceased person has shaken all your other connections to human beings outside yourself. At the funeral of a suicide, I can feel my own vitality trying to shrink down inside of me and hide from the people carrying on with their social norms and saying all the things they're supposed to say in situations like these.
I'm sorry.
Everyone says it, over and over, until I feel as if saying it myself is disingenuous because it's just a repetition of a phrase that we've all adopted even though it doesn't come anywhere near describing the feeling of hurt and bewilderment and sadness inside. Struggling to come up with anything better is futile, however, because those closest to the person who's gone can only look to themselves and each other for the answers. How can I even speak to them about my feelings, when they are surely struggling with something much worse than my helplessness at what to say to them?
I'm sorry.
Each memory of them is tainted somehow by the knowledge of what has come to pass despite whatever connection we felt in that moment, and the "what if" scenarios play out over and over. What if I had called that last time I thought about them? What if they just needed a good long talk or a hug? What if I had done that and it still hadn't made a difference?
I am sorry.
He will be missed, but the number of lives he touched and the tears and laughter he brought to all of us will live on as a testament to his life. This tragedy should at least be a stark reminder of his struggle, and a catalyst for more open discussion about suicide and mental health. Depression lies, and there's no greater evidence of that than the outcry of so many who were touched by his contributions to the world. Whatever he was feeling at the time, it wasn't the love that so many of us would gladly have shared with him if it could ease his pain.
No one should have to suffer alone when there are resources available to get help. Please, reach out if you ever feel like suicide is an option.
R.I.P. Robin Williams
1951 - 2014
Tuesday, August 5, 2014
Making Change
This blog is not going to be my magnum opus.
It's creation has not been long-thought-out or well planned, and it's subject matter is still very much abstract and unformed. I can promise you I will try to keep a few key things in mind as I write it, and I hope you find value in the insights and experiences I'm excited to share here. I've been blogging for more than ten years now and my writing has shifted from focusing on myself and my daily woes to turning outward and lamenting the injustices of the world and back again. Through all of it, I have felt that the thing I was least satisfied with was my focus. I seem to have this inability to create content for an audience that it would be relevant to for more than just a passing moment or solitary post. Unfortunately, my personal roller-coaster of life has been full of twists and turns and that didn't lend itself to writing about a straight and narrow path to enlightenment. I'm not sure there even is one.
It's creation has not been long-thought-out or well planned, and it's subject matter is still very much abstract and unformed. I can promise you I will try to keep a few key things in mind as I write it, and I hope you find value in the insights and experiences I'm excited to share here. I've been blogging for more than ten years now and my writing has shifted from focusing on myself and my daily woes to turning outward and lamenting the injustices of the world and back again. Through all of it, I have felt that the thing I was least satisfied with was my focus. I seem to have this inability to create content for an audience that it would be relevant to for more than just a passing moment or solitary post. Unfortunately, my personal roller-coaster of life has been full of twists and turns and that didn't lend itself to writing about a straight and narrow path to enlightenment. I'm not sure there even is one.
I will write about myself in ways that are amusing. Hopefully you'll get a few good belly-chuckles out of my ridiculous methodologies and the oddball situations the universe keeps putting me into. We've all had them, but I hope to save mine for posterity.
I will write about social media, content marketing, and internet culture from the perspective of all the different things I have been or currently consider myself to be. This includes, but is not limited to;
- A teenage girl in the midwest, hell-bent on making her own way in the world.
- A single mother starting college in a fading manufacturing town.
- A fast-food shift manager commuting to state college.
- A married mother of two with a bachelor's degree and a full-time career.
My title is "Nickles & Diamonds" because they are kind of at opposite ends of the spectrum of available wealth in the world. Sometimes the pull created by them spinning around me can be extremely disorienting -but it's that centrifugal force that keeps everything balanced. Between the internet troll and the OP, the pain and the beauty, the tyrant and the victim- that is where I find my balance. I'm going to turn this dusty nickel into a diamond someday, and I hope you'll get something out of following along.
Shine on, you crazy diamonds.
Shine on, you crazy diamonds.
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