Rehab! I remember so well the day I was pushed into the center of a group of family members who told me it was time to go to Rehab. I was so mad and embarrassed and scared and trapped. I absolutely refused the help that I was being told I needed. With dragging feet I embarked on the "road to recovery."
It has been so hard at times. I lived in denial of its importance so long and as it had done for Amy Winehouse - my refusal nearly cost me my life.
Then in July 2013 I guess I made some other choices. It really wasn't this "bottomed out" time. I had indeed hurt myself and indeed was given 24 to 48 hours to live. I was prepared for that conclusion. Obviously, the clock is still ticking.
I had no one at that time - absolutely no friends left, no family any longer invested in helping (none had shown up on my deathbed even) and not even a professional worker still interested in my case. I was almost being considered a lost cause. Almost!
The doctor at where I stayed put the bottom line up front. He told me I was unfit to live on my own - I had to go to a facility where I'd be monitored 24/7. I WILL NEVER BE IN THAT POSITION! If I must live, it will be on MY TERMS! But I guess there is the law to consider.
This doctor gave me a last chance. He gave me resources I could tap into for counseling and time to find the last possible professional worker who wouldn't give up on me. But that meant I too had to commit to opening my mind to possibilities and to improving.
I vowed I would do this. I did NOT want to do this, but the alternative was not an option.
It's been one year and 9 months and I've experienced far more success than I have failure. I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I still screw up without a doubt, but the success outweighs the miss steps. I'm no longer doing this just to stay out of guarded residency - I'm doing it because it feels good. Rehab maybe isn't ideal and maybe it's almost incomprehensible at the time it's being pushed - but maybe it is a blessing in disguise too. Rather than Winehouse's position, "And I said, no no no" a person should consider - Maybe maybe maybe.
https://youtu.be/KUmZp8pR1uc
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
Revising Books
Without a doubt I am new to the world of publishing my stories. In my efforts to get myself out there, I chose to self publish. I was just very determined to do this.
I like that I'm "in charge" of what I make available for others to read. It seems to give me more freedom in what I'm writing. Of course, I'm interested in what an established publisher would say about my works. Regardless, I'm excited about taking the initiative to do this myself.
Downfalls: My original efforts are examples of mistakes I made.
1. I admit I was shy about actually letting others see how my imagination works. As much as I tell stories, it has always been done with family and friends. Certainly I was in a comfort zone and definitely not too worried about the impression I'd make or the potential consequence of being judged. Therefore, I chose to change aspects of my stories to make them - hopefully - less revealing. I DO tend to include "dark" aspects in story telling and that was the element I guarded. To protect that thinking style, I chopped the content AFTER I had written it. It created a sloppy plot and numerous errors.
2. I had no editor or proof reader. I completely took on this endeavor alone. The result is that grammar and spelling and even formatting errors went unchecked.
Resolution: Two titles are being revised. I have on board readers who will give constructive criticism before the world has access to them. These two stories are extremely important. They set the stage for the book I'm currently working on. In this third installment of a series, I am not withholding. I'm telling it with much more confidence and certainly more in line with the actual story I dreamed up. It will not be served justice until the first two are improved.
Thus, I discourage readers from And Arizona...Jason and And Arizona... Sons and Daughters. Please give me the opportunity to create them as they should be created.
A safe book to consider is Jordan Knight. It has been a surprise to me all around. For starters, it sells. Secondly I receive kudos for it.
Lastly, I will tell you I've adopted a different penname. I will continue to use this name to publish titles, but I've rationalized that a penname will give me liberties I don't have under this name.
Thank you all who are considering and enjoying my efforts to date!
I like that I'm "in charge" of what I make available for others to read. It seems to give me more freedom in what I'm writing. Of course, I'm interested in what an established publisher would say about my works. Regardless, I'm excited about taking the initiative to do this myself.
Downfalls: My original efforts are examples of mistakes I made.
1. I admit I was shy about actually letting others see how my imagination works. As much as I tell stories, it has always been done with family and friends. Certainly I was in a comfort zone and definitely not too worried about the impression I'd make or the potential consequence of being judged. Therefore, I chose to change aspects of my stories to make them - hopefully - less revealing. I DO tend to include "dark" aspects in story telling and that was the element I guarded. To protect that thinking style, I chopped the content AFTER I had written it. It created a sloppy plot and numerous errors.
2. I had no editor or proof reader. I completely took on this endeavor alone. The result is that grammar and spelling and even formatting errors went unchecked.
Resolution: Two titles are being revised. I have on board readers who will give constructive criticism before the world has access to them. These two stories are extremely important. They set the stage for the book I'm currently working on. In this third installment of a series, I am not withholding. I'm telling it with much more confidence and certainly more in line with the actual story I dreamed up. It will not be served justice until the first two are improved.
Thus, I discourage readers from And Arizona...Jason and And Arizona... Sons and Daughters. Please give me the opportunity to create them as they should be created.
A safe book to consider is Jordan Knight. It has been a surprise to me all around. For starters, it sells. Secondly I receive kudos for it.
Lastly, I will tell you I've adopted a different penname. I will continue to use this name to publish titles, but I've rationalized that a penname will give me liberties I don't have under this name.
Thank you all who are considering and enjoying my efforts to date!
Monday, April 6, 2015
Stop and think! Suicide is a PERMANENT solution to a temporary problem.
I'll never forget the exact moment and time I was delivered the most severe blow to my life!
I had slept on the couch in my apartment. I must have fallen asleep watching TV. My boyfriend at that time was already at work. I had been in essence "shaking up" with him - after all I believed him to be that ONE person for my life.
The problem is: I was raised in a traditional Catholic family and we did not "shake up." We made vows, commitments in front of God. Then we lived together and created families.
I was awakened by that loud annoying ring on an old rotary phone. My thoughts: Who in the hell would be calling me at this hour? It's freaking 2:20 in the morning. Which of my friends was of mind to think they'd drag me out at this hour to party? It was the most likely call.
Then a thought: it's going to be a prankster. Damn! I'm annoyed
Lo and behold I answer with my perturbed, "Hello?"
Mother's shaky voice answers, "Are you alone right now?"
Thoughts: Is she checking up on me? Dang!
"Of course I am. Why are you calling me?"
"Dean shot himself." It wasn't excited. It wasn't exactly ordinary. It was like what she had said was a fact to be bluntly.
"Oh, God," I respond with a roll of my eyes. "Where is he?" I truly remember that what she said got put into this context: He was messing around, shot himself in the foot, and is now in the hospital.
"He's at Twits!"
Immediately the bile made it's way up my throat. He was at the funeral home???
A bit of the following becomes a blur. I hung up, threw up, grabbed my suitcase, threw in my piggy bank, returned to the bathroom to throw up again and experience the worse kind of diarrhea. What was I to do? It couldn't be right. He by no means could be dead unless I said he was dead. They were lying to me.
I abandoned everything and jumped into my car. I raced to campus (I was a college student at Iowa State University) to find my boyfriend and demand his help. He was working campus security.
His boss gave me resistance. That asshole! I told him "I need to see Keith. They say my brother has shot himself."
At last the boss calls Keith to come back to the office. Keith takes his sweet time. When at last he's there, I throw my arms around him and whispered, "Dean killed himself."
Keith takes off his belt and quits on the spot. With urgency it is decided to go to my hometown 65 miles away so I can see for myself if indeed it was true. I need to get there. I need to know.
I let my boyfriend drive. He is incompetent. He's barely driving the limit and threatening to fall asleep. How can he? I don't care that he's been up 18 hours. Given the circumstances, this is an emergency that should awaken every fiber in the body. I demand him to pull over and stop wasting my time.
Assuming control over the situation, I speed at a rate of 90+ mph to get home. I finally pull up the driveway at about 5 in the morning. I step from my car and the front door to my house opens and out walks my younger brother, Dave. He looks shell-shocked. My mother follows shortly thereafter. She's wearing an apron and there is blood on it - I think it's blood. I don't know. Others are there. I don't know who. It's all so surreal. I'm walking in a nightmare.
It's only Saturday morning. Suddenly there's so much to do and though I've asked repeatedly if I can see Dean (still need to 'sign his death certificate') I'm told I have to wait. I return to Ames to get that bag I had left behind (need nice clothes.) I leave my incompetent boyfriend behind this time. And then we're shopping for coffins. His had to be the best, coolest, finest! Why does this matter?
I wait and wait and wait!
At last it's Sunday afternoon and visitation at the funeral home is about to begin. Family is ushered in. From across the room I spy the coffin and MY BROTHER! I demand - GET HIM OUT OF THERE! I can't stand, can't swallow, can't breathe. Then I'm waking up in a chair with my sibling all around me. My oldest brother, Mike, is saying, "Amy, Dean is gone."
I had known for years that Dean was hurting. He spoke of it and though I tried I did not know how to help him. He made a choice in the end that has ripped me and my family to shreds. I'm so angry to this day!
I have lost loved ones to illness and old age. Twice more I have lost a friend to suicide.
When my mother of 87 years old died, I accepted it and in my memory have a last time just weeks before when we had talked, shared an expression of love, and smiled.
But this is all I see when I think back on Dean:
Death and confusion; abandoned; death and confusion; anger, death and confusion, RAW and TERRORIZED!
I had slept on the couch in my apartment. I must have fallen asleep watching TV. My boyfriend at that time was already at work. I had been in essence "shaking up" with him - after all I believed him to be that ONE person for my life.
The problem is: I was raised in a traditional Catholic family and we did not "shake up." We made vows, commitments in front of God. Then we lived together and created families.
I was awakened by that loud annoying ring on an old rotary phone. My thoughts: Who in the hell would be calling me at this hour? It's freaking 2:20 in the morning. Which of my friends was of mind to think they'd drag me out at this hour to party? It was the most likely call.
Then a thought: it's going to be a prankster. Damn! I'm annoyed
Lo and behold I answer with my perturbed, "Hello?"
Mother's shaky voice answers, "Are you alone right now?"
Thoughts: Is she checking up on me? Dang!
"Of course I am. Why are you calling me?"
"Dean shot himself." It wasn't excited. It wasn't exactly ordinary. It was like what she had said was a fact to be bluntly.
"Oh, God," I respond with a roll of my eyes. "Where is he?" I truly remember that what she said got put into this context: He was messing around, shot himself in the foot, and is now in the hospital.
"He's at Twits!"
Immediately the bile made it's way up my throat. He was at the funeral home???
A bit of the following becomes a blur. I hung up, threw up, grabbed my suitcase, threw in my piggy bank, returned to the bathroom to throw up again and experience the worse kind of diarrhea. What was I to do? It couldn't be right. He by no means could be dead unless I said he was dead. They were lying to me.
I abandoned everything and jumped into my car. I raced to campus (I was a college student at Iowa State University) to find my boyfriend and demand his help. He was working campus security.
His boss gave me resistance. That asshole! I told him "I need to see Keith. They say my brother has shot himself."
At last the boss calls Keith to come back to the office. Keith takes his sweet time. When at last he's there, I throw my arms around him and whispered, "Dean killed himself."
Keith takes off his belt and quits on the spot. With urgency it is decided to go to my hometown 65 miles away so I can see for myself if indeed it was true. I need to get there. I need to know.
I let my boyfriend drive. He is incompetent. He's barely driving the limit and threatening to fall asleep. How can he? I don't care that he's been up 18 hours. Given the circumstances, this is an emergency that should awaken every fiber in the body. I demand him to pull over and stop wasting my time.
Assuming control over the situation, I speed at a rate of 90+ mph to get home. I finally pull up the driveway at about 5 in the morning. I step from my car and the front door to my house opens and out walks my younger brother, Dave. He looks shell-shocked. My mother follows shortly thereafter. She's wearing an apron and there is blood on it - I think it's blood. I don't know. Others are there. I don't know who. It's all so surreal. I'm walking in a nightmare.
It's only Saturday morning. Suddenly there's so much to do and though I've asked repeatedly if I can see Dean (still need to 'sign his death certificate') I'm told I have to wait. I return to Ames to get that bag I had left behind (need nice clothes.) I leave my incompetent boyfriend behind this time. And then we're shopping for coffins. His had to be the best, coolest, finest! Why does this matter?
I wait and wait and wait!
At last it's Sunday afternoon and visitation at the funeral home is about to begin. Family is ushered in. From across the room I spy the coffin and MY BROTHER! I demand - GET HIM OUT OF THERE! I can't stand, can't swallow, can't breathe. Then I'm waking up in a chair with my sibling all around me. My oldest brother, Mike, is saying, "Amy, Dean is gone."
I had known for years that Dean was hurting. He spoke of it and though I tried I did not know how to help him. He made a choice in the end that has ripped me and my family to shreds. I'm so angry to this day!
I have lost loved ones to illness and old age. Twice more I have lost a friend to suicide.
When my mother of 87 years old died, I accepted it and in my memory have a last time just weeks before when we had talked, shared an expression of love, and smiled.
But this is all I see when I think back on Dean:
Sunday, April 5, 2015
Happy Easter...First Great Day of Spring...or whatever you celebrate:
What a beautiful Spring day! Of course I worked my part time job but have to say that I'm so glad that I did. Met a wonderful, young college woman who studies anthropology and is striving to make herself known as a painter. Of course she works with charcoal too. When I hear this all kinds of creative bells go off in my head.
I have been working hard to find a local artist to design images and covers for me for my books. I am currently working with one on one project and I am excited to do so. However, life always happens. My current artist - and forever friend - is relocating to Puerto Rico in June. In our current situation, it makes it difficult to pursue future projects. Therefore, in her absence I am looking for another interested in working WITH me.
If you are an artist and would like to be considered, talk to me. I'm in particular looking for images/illustrations that would go well with stories I categorize as: dark fantasy, crime/thrill, romance.
Any artist hoping to be discovered or to launch themselves is also invited to talk to me. I can (and will) let you advertise on www.signedbyamy.com. One woman entrepreneur has already taken advantage of this opportunity. Her ad is simply an image of her business card. For $5 for thirty days, she's able to market herself. You, too, have this option. Simply email me at amygoreham@signedbyamy.com
I have been working hard to find a local artist to design images and covers for me for my books. I am currently working with one on one project and I am excited to do so. However, life always happens. My current artist - and forever friend - is relocating to Puerto Rico in June. In our current situation, it makes it difficult to pursue future projects. Therefore, in her absence I am looking for another interested in working WITH me.
If you are an artist and would like to be considered, talk to me. I'm in particular looking for images/illustrations that would go well with stories I categorize as: dark fantasy, crime/thrill, romance.
Any artist hoping to be discovered or to launch themselves is also invited to talk to me. I can (and will) let you advertise on www.signedbyamy.com. One woman entrepreneur has already taken advantage of this opportunity. Her ad is simply an image of her business card. For $5 for thirty days, she's able to market herself. You, too, have this option. Simply email me at amygoreham@signedbyamy.com
Saturday, April 4, 2015
Making dreams come true...
Established my website, FB page, and so much more. Recently added a new part time job and am anticipating another opportunity this upcoming week. Best news: my physical health is the best it has been in 8 years. Through diet, exercise, and mental health programs like STEPPS, STAIRWAYS, and individual appointments with two doctors and licensed professionals I can finally see the light at the end of the road to recovery. It's time for sustaining phase.
My life can be depicted in the following three pictures:
My life can be depicted in the following three pictures:
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