Hell Into Beauty

This lady, Emilie Autumn, is my hero, someone I aspire to be like, not in personality, but in attitude. She’s part of the reason I am fighting more than ever. I’ve mentioned before how this lady bribed herself out of suicide by finishing her album Opheliac and how that inspired me to pretty much bribe myself.

I’m still holding on to that bribe. Stars (I’m calling my readers this now because we are stars, we are made of star stuff, and we will all die like stars, leaving brilliance behind), I’m not feeling so well tonight. I guess I’m pushing myself too hard. I can’t do all of what a normal person can do in a day. I worked four hours at my job, I plotted eight chapters, I spent some time in the social media sphere, and I did one blog post. That’s really not a lot, but for someone as unstable as I, it’s enough to spike my anxiety, worsen my depression, and make me feel exhausted (though I can’t pinpoint if this is my fibromyalgia or my depression).

I was already growing intensely irritable after the plotting, for no reason too. In fact, I feel great about this book I’m plotting, but I don’t feel good in general.

I just want to break down and cry myself to sleep. I just want to sleep all day tomorrow so I don’t have to deal with the fuckery of my own damn mind. A part of me never wants to wake up again. A part of me wants to go back to cutting (which I haven’t done in some time). But then I think about Emilie Autumn and how she overcame her rough time to emerge as someone who doesn’t take shit from anyone, who uses her music to aspire others to fight as hard as she has.

I want to be a person like that. I want to be a role model for others, an inspiration, someone others can look to as a reason to just simply keep breathing. Thinking about Emilie Autumn makes me realize why I write stories with troubled characters: I want those characters to inspire others like them to keep fighting, because everyone has something they can fight for, and we just have to constantly remind ourselves what we’re fighting for and why. Why do we want to do this crazy thing called life? Why can’t we all just give up so we don’t have to struggle through the despair? Are those precious moments of happiness worth it? I hope the characters in my books make readers realize that yes, those moments are worth it because we’re all here on this crazy earth and we might as well serve as the pillars others can lean on until they can become those pillars themselves. The world will be more bearable that way. Possibly better. Perhaps happier. So in the meantime, we’ve got to keep living because life isn’t going to stop when we’re gone, and we might as well live loudly and fight for those who feel like they can’t. After all, we all want to be happy, right? You can’t be happy being dead.

Stars, I feel terrible tonight, but I’m not giving in to this hopeless feeling. I have a fiancé, great parents, and a cat. They’d all miss me, and I can’t bear the thought of what my absence would do to them. I’ll admit right now I feel like this isn’t going to get better. I don’t want to hide anything from you because I want you all to know who I am, naked and stripped to the bone. I’m fighting. I’m going to keep fighting. I’m going to inspire others to keep fighting.