Tag Archives: depression

A Long Week Ends and New Writing Begins.

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There are days, weeks, and sometimes months that try us. We must get through those days and on to better ones.
This past week, was one of these.
Celebrities come to this little corner during Sundance Film Festival.
Those of us in the service industry cater to them and take care of them.
Its difficult working long hours but we do it.
Over the past week I worked crazy hours, woke up tired, but I persevered.
The only thing that fell apart was my writing. My family held it together because it was Sundance.
I’m getting my writing back on track and working on a new project, something darker. The past week was a lot of fun, I served some great actors and actresses, but I’m ready for normality. Whatever that means.
I’ve worked hard to get stories ready for publication. I still plan on publishing this year, but not sure which novel it will be.
I’ll begin the read-through this weekend of the novel I finished in December. I’m looking forward to this.
Every day is a
challenge, especially when I’m tired. Depression sneaks in when I least expect it and it tried this past week.
Today, I’m a day closer to publication and working on a story idea that came to me a while ago. Now that I’m working on it, I love it and it scares me. If I’m not scared, the reader isn’t either.
Happy writing.

Things happen for reasons we don’t understand.

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In July of 2015, after we’d moved, I found it difficult to locate employment.

We didn’t plan for this.

After bartending in Las Vegas for 17 years, we thought it would be easy.

It took me until the end of August to find the job I currently have.

I love bartending weddings and events. You see people as they begin their lives together, learn about their family, and often meet some great people.

The other events are mostly corporate parties. They are fun, but the weddings are my favorites.

Going back to the start of this post, we were perhaps naive.

We thought, “Who wouldn’t want to have a Las Vegas bartender?”

Apparently every bar and restaurant I applied for from Salt Lake to North Ogden.

In the beginning, when no one called or those who were interested changed their minds for unknown reasons, I became depressed.

We lived with my mother-in-law in those early months after our move and I felt like a failure.

We never discovered the reason the interested places changed their minds. I gave up caring about it a few months ago.

In hindsight, I thought, ‘I’d failed my family.”

Today, I believe if I had procured one of those jobs, I wouldn’t be able to write full-time. I’d probably be miserable in any of those jobs. A year ago I sent my resumé out again, but I’ll never do it again.

Sure, my wife and I struggle, but I write full-time, and we can pay our bills. We were able to take our kids to Universal Studios this past June.

It was something, with our limited funds I had to plan a year out, but we all had fun.

I have a novel out to agents currently, will send it to more by the end of the week, and I’m starting revisions on another. I plan on submitting that one either in September or if more rewrites are needed January 2019.

I started writing a new novel at the end of June.

I write every day. Sometimes the words come easy, sometimes I struggle, but I get 1,000 words or more a day.

I’ve written seven novels. If we’d have stayed in Las Vegas that number would be stuck at two. If I’d had found a different job, I would have maybe three or four, but not the eight.

Keep working, keep grinding and remember things happen for a reason.

When we chase the light…

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Sometimes we hit a rough patch.

And like all rough patches, they feel longer than they are.

We find ourselves traveling roads no one’s been. It feels harder, the terrain more difficult.

With each passing spray of dirt, we right ourselves. The correction may be difficult but it’s worth the effort.

Then we’re out off the rough patch, onto the main road and following until we reach our destination.

Sometimes the destination feels farther away than we first realized. We can see the light illuminating its top and we want to quit. We want to give up.

But when we’re traveling and hitting rough spots we’re still moving forward. We’re still traveling towards the light.

When we get stuck in the mud our faith in ourselves and our journey falters.

The mud covers our tires, buries them and then we’re only spinning.

Those are the times we look for someone who can help.

We have to find those people to get out of the mud. We’ll stand on the side of the road, hope they’re around the curve, wish for them to come around and sometimes they will.

Other times, we need to get a stick, place it under the tires or wrap a rope around a tree and pull ourselves out.

When we pull ourselves out its more difficult but the reward of doing ourselves feels better.

We won’t always have that person to pull us out of the mud. Finding a way out without needing someone to help us gives us hope. Hope that next time, we’ll do it again.

Living with constant depression is a battle each day.

There are moments where we get out of the mud, pull onto the main road, hit the gas and get closer.

Those days seem like their far apart some days, weeks, months but they are there.

We must reach the light on the hill.

How a little push helped me this week.

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This past week my family and I took a trip to Universal Studios Hollywood.

It’s something I’d planned since last year and it was our kid’s choice.

Each summer our kids spend two weeks with my parents.

This past summer was no different.

When our kids came home I gave them three options for a trip this summer. Chicago, Washington D.C. or Universal Studios to see the Wizarding World of Harry Potter.

They chose Harry Potter.

We arrived at Universal and for some reason, I was in a bad mood. All of the first day I was an asshole to my wife, son, and daughter, but mostly to my son.

That night my wife called me out on it and I hadn’t thought I had been any different. I believed it was the kids who were acting up.

After sleeping that night and contemplating the previous day during my morning meditation, I realized I’d been an ass.

After everyone was ready, I apologized to my family, giving my son special attention that day to make up for my attitude the previous day.

After four years of transcendental meditation, dealing with recurring depression and thoughts of giving up on writing, I sometimes lose my way.

I tell you this because no matter how much better we think we’re getting, we slip sometimes.

There are days when life feels harder than it should be. Those days should make the other days better.

Sometimes they do.

There is always the nagging of depression. Fighting it every day feels like a chore, but its better than the alternative.

Doubt has crept into my mind recently.

It rears its head when I get a rejection notice or an agent doesn’t reply at all.

My head screws with me. Tells me that I need to quit and get a real job. It says I should do more to support my family.

My wife tells me to keep writing and without her, I don’t know what I’d do.

Last week she corrected me on my attitude. This week she told me to keep going.

Today I feel better, but I know doubt and depression could creep in at any moment.

I try to keep my head above the pit and continue to write.

Short stories and improving have been my goal this summer.

I’m getting better and I’m querying a novel with multiple agents at the moment.

Today, I’ll be bartending at an event and think about what I should be writing tomorrow.

Every day is a blessing and I’m not done yet.

Frustration, Fate, ​and Writing.

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Okay, hear me out.

This is not a post about how sad I am about being unpublished, it’s more about the frustration of working the day job while worrying I could be writing, querying, editing, but because the day job pays the bills.

I’m aware of the one in a million chance of being the author who gets a contract that changes their lives.

The moments of wonder when I’m at my day job are not small.

I think about these things a lot more than I probably should as an unpublished writer.

Though, I’m certain there are others who think these things as well.

This past week is a perfect example.

I worked the day job, four days last week, which is more than I usually work, but it’s the time of year that allows it.

January through March is quiet as an event bartender. Its the nature of the gig.

Don’t get me wrong, I love bartending. I love the interaction with guests. I enjoy making cocktails and do it often for my wife.

There are moments I’ll have an interaction with a guest. I roll my eyes and think about the story I’m writing and what I have to do when I get home or the following morning.

After that moment has passed I look around and wonder, ‘Is that all I’m supposed to be doing with my life?’ I know it’s not. I’ve known that since I was a kid. Those thoughts persist, especially now that I’ve begun to query agents with finished novels.

I try to put them farther back. I find I work harder when they’re at the forefront of my thoughts.

The more focused I am on getting published the more I think about the possibilities for publication.

Each of us is meant for a certain path, I completely believe that. I didn’t use to.

Something happened that made me believe it. Fate has a path for each us that we’re destined to take.

We have choices to make, we’ll feel them when they arrive.

Those choices are tough.

Keep going no matter what games your mind plays you.