I am ending 2015 in a not great place. I’m deeply, terribly anxious. I am pretty sure this has been fueled by my insomnia and my anxiety fuels my insomnia and I get depressed and I am the Black dog chasing its own tail.
Tomorrow I am going to go see a Star War and will dork out.
As my ride or die most beloved friends have pointed out and as I point out, I have a very bad habit of grinding myself down when I can’t do everything.
I am not going to end my year doing that more than I have been lately.
I won’t let my creative failures dictate how I feel about what I have accomplished because I did a lot this year.
Milcah and I- a couple of poor brown Queers who met on the internet because I had a feeling and went ahead and commented. We put out a fucking book. We have both changed and grown and been through it. We’re doing more.
I met with some of the founders from The Establishment because they wanted to talk to me and work with me. And even though I was so nervous I thought I would shit my pants on the way there, we met and had fun and shared food and ideas and then I wrote this.
Holy shit right?
I wrote a thing back in March and posted it on Medium and as of today it has been viewed 59K times and read 31K. Because I ranted about people talking shit to me about how I like to look. That experience was overwhelming and wonderful. I got messages from middle aged fat ladies who FINALLY wore the magenta tight ho dresses in their closest and glitter and some straight cisdude who wore eyeliner and skinny jeans and crop tops and for the first time in more than ten years a coworker asked me if I was the Shannon Barber who wrote this thing that someone else told them about. That experience has colored what I’m doing next with SCLAB.
I started writing poems again. Better poems. Poems that mean something to me.
That’s not everything but that’s a lot of things.
I spent some time last night during an epic work shift trying to go back and look at what I’ve done. What I accomplished. I had to remind myself that I have had an impact on people. I did readings. I met people who walked up to me and took my hand and said thank you.
I did not make a shitload of money.
My book didn’t become an indie sensation.
And for months I’ve felt like I failed everyone and everything in the world.
2015 has kicked my ass five ways to Sunday, but god damn it, I’m still doing it. I still stand by my decisions, even those that have meant I made less money. Even those that have meant that I have asked for help.
Part of me celebrating shit I’ve done this year I’m offering a free download of my Urban Fantasy novella in progress The Daiyu Saga. Get it here.
Now what am I going to do in 2016?
- Make SCLAB bigger, better and more.
- Write a Queen Poems Chapbook.
- Maybe start up an idea I have.
But first I’m going to take my own goddamn advice. I’m going to deal with this anxiety. I have to say that while I’m going through it, it is really difficult for me to talk to people I don’t already know. So don’t think I don’t see your sweet messages and things. I do, I just can’t.
I’m working on it.
I’m still fucking here.
So fuck you 2015. I made it.
And fuck you too 2016. Don’t start none, there won’t be none.
I love you all.