You might have noticed that I haven’t posted in a long-ass time. It’s been a hard year. It’s a little difficult for me to process, because I’m the kind of person who wants it to be completely horrible or absolutely magic. And it wasn’t like that. I think I’m entering the part of my life where everything is a little bit good and a little bit bad. Mid-thirties are a weird kind of roller coaster, with little dips of terror and depression and tiny rises of relief and delight. It’s funny, because in the olden days of my twenties, I had much more dramatic problems, as well as rises in fortune. And a year like this would have shaken me to the core. But back then, I didn’t have friends who could help me out. Or fans who would support me. And that, in a nutshell, is what made the year so grey. Not depresing grey, just not brilliant gorgeous red, or dark depressing blue. Just a mix of both; a purple which came out greyish. All of this hard shit happened, and each new thing made me think I might perish, a sad little artist, forgotten in time. But each time, people showed up for me, and dug me out of the hole I’d fallen into. And it got so that I started to feel like no matter what, I will be Ok. Like, underneath me, was an invisible net of hands, keeping me from falling too deeply into a pit of despair. I believe that other people think of this net of hands as family.
So, on the brilliant red spectrum, I found a Magical Code Maker, who finished making The Snarky Cards App! So, now you can text Snarky Cards to your friends! And (as you may have read from my posts, where I complain and explain it) my hands stopped working. And my legs were still not OK, after having both been broken in the last few years.
So, my limbs were all bad, and I had limited use of them, for different reasons. It turns out, when you can’t use your arms or legs very well, you have to ask a lot of people for a lot of help. Which is also traumatic for me, or at least it used to be. Every broken leg gave me practice in asking people for help. And it turns out that doing that effectively, kindly, in a way which brings you closer to the people who help you, it’s a skill. It’s something that takes thought and practice.
And I may have finally kind of gotten the hang of it. Because I had this calm. As soon as I accepted the extent of damage I’d done to my arms; and that fixing them meant I needed to take a few months off, all of these tapes I’d played since I was a kid just stopped. And all of a sudden, there was just…. empty space, where I used to keep my list of grievances against myself.
I was depressed, because pain in your body just comes with depression. And I wondered if the Universe was just asking me to give up on Snarky Cards. But every broken leg brought this wave of fear, and the entire time I was recovering, for that entire first year, I had this mantra going through my head. “Ohshit, OhGOD, OhJeeze, I’m gonna end up homeless, and I’ll have to give the cats away, and I’m gonna starve because I’ve failed. And this is the Universe’s way of punishing me for trying to be a writer. And an artist. And following my selfish dream.”
Two broken legs. Two years of that, playing in the back of my head. But this time, I didn’t hear it. In fact, I didn’t hear any mean shit in my head. For probably the first time in my life. It was just…. really….quiet. It’s weird being trapped with pain. My elbows, forearms and wrists hurt badly. And sometimes, when my body just needed me to sit still, and it hurt too much for me to concentrate on a conversation, I would sit with the pain and try to listen to this quiet.
And I realized, that living with pain took a lot of energy. And it didn’t leave me with a lot of energy for other negative stuff. And suddenly, I had to change the way I looked at work, and my friendships, and the tv shows I watched. And I had to start shoring myself up. So, I let some friendships go. I started to weigh whether my tv shows make me feel better or worse. And I started to see and try to fix whole areas in my life where I pour a lot of energy into stuff, and didn’t get anything back. But something else happened too, I started to relish when things were good. And revel in the relationships I have with people who are good at love and kindness. And just generally giving myself a fucking break.
I think if the App hadn’t come out, I might have just given up. But it gave me a real sense that my arms were fucked up for a reason. And that reason was so that I could stop being a good little work-horse and start figuring out how to bring Snarky Cards to the world in a way that doesn’t wear me out so much. Hope bloomed from the seed of technology. Or some crap like that.
So, check out the App. Tell me what you think.