Friday, November 14, 2014

Later on, in 2014...

It's been a year since my last blog entry here. So I guess it's time to send another update into the void.
I re-read all of my previous entries, which was painful at first but also kind of adorable. I re-invent myself over and over, and often I'll forget whatever was once the intense preoccupation of my life and be surprised.
Like the art phase. I do still do art, but it's almost entirely done digitally now. I have listings on Zazzle and RedBubble and make the occasional sale that I find very exciting.

I have a few drips and drabs of freelancing left, although that bubble has burst for most of the websites I used to write for.

I currently have a job as a discussion leader with a content website that I'm constantly worried is going to evaporate, but has lasted me for three years so far. This year it's been my main income source.

I also have a tiny collection of novellas for sale on Amazon, that I'm hoping will grow. I'm getting better as an author but I'm still not "there". Wherever there is. But I've made sales in the double digits now, so I'm not a complete failure. I'm working my way up from "complete failure", to "barely scraping by".

So in the material sense, I haven't got very far with my life. I'm not particularly disadvantaged, in that my health is relatively good and I'm educated and have a supportive family. But I'm poor. I live on maybe $200 a week, which is less than I would get if I was on the dole. Still I've managed to survive an entire year on that. In Palmerston North, but still, it's something of an achievement.

This year has been a kind of hibernation for me. I had a bit of a breakdown last year, under the stress of trying to be a teacher. I ended up deciding to go on anti-depressants for the first time, which felt like an admission of defeat but turned out to be one of the best decisions I ever made.
Suddenly, I wasn't depressed all the time. I wasn't so overwhelmed by anxiety and gloom that I couldn't see straight. It felt like I had been treading water for years and I suddenly found chunk of drift-wood to cling to.

That sounds dramatic, but I honestly had no idea that I was as depressed as I had been because it was such a normal state for me.

So now I've been on the meds for over a year and I still feel good. I decided that teaching wasn't for me, at least, not in a classroom context like that. I still want to be a lazy, bohemian artist type and even though I get very frustrated with poverty (insofar as I experience it) I am glad that I don't have to get up and go to a "proper" job every day. That would have killed me.

I'm a strange person. My counselor liked me to say "quirky" rather than strange or weird, but I prefer to load my description with negative connotations and then embrace them because they add much more texture and depth.
I'm strange and I'll always be strange and there is something comforting in that. 

No comments:

Post a Comment