I call my mom, she said to get it off my chest
Remind myself the way you faded 'til I left
I cannot be your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost
And what it cost, now that we don't talk
- TSwift
It's been a long time since I've been able to sit down and write anything meaningful. Most times, I sit down to make a start and get overwhelmed. My draft folder is full of barely started blog posts. The only way I know how to write is by opening an artery and I've found myself stuck in a trap with no extra blood to spill for months, maybe years now. I'm trying to find my way back out again. The turmoil of my life over the past few years has been unbearable at times. I need to write if I'm ever going to be able to move forward again, so here is where I will attempt to make a start. I'm not looking for pity or answers, just looking to cleanse some of the bad feelings out so maybe I can let some good ones in.
The pandemic really did a number on everyone, I'm not particularly special in that sense, but it set off a chain reaction of events that have truly changed nearly every piece of my life. The past three years have held tremendous amounts of loss, extreme burnout, and a complete identity crisis. I left the PhD program I'd worked so hard to get into because I just couldn't produce the quality of work I wanted to under the time constraints, my mental and physical health has gone pretty off the rails, I had to put down my sweet crazy tiny dog, my dad had a stroke and I became his sole caregiver (he now lives with me), my relationship ended and I also lost the chosen family that had been attached to it. With the constant personal hits, I've been pretty insular and isolated. I've lost contact with most of the people who I always had considered my dearest friends. While I was drowning in the loss of my dreams, my identity, and a future I thought I was headed toward, everyone else's lives were moving on without me. Out of sight, out of mind, I've always thought I was the friend everyone forgot about the second I walked out of the door. Maybe it's true. Maybe me hiding away and not reaching out to anyone made them think I didn't care anymore. I'm too scared to find out what's really true and I've been burned too many times lately to reach out and get rejected again. It has always been one of the greatest disappointments in my life that no matter how deeply you love another person, you cannot make them reciprocate. Doesn't matter the type of love, friendships, lovers, even family, I very frequently find myself caring more and in way deeper than others are capable of meeting halfway. I know it's unrealistic to hold people to the same standards as I do myself, but I always end up with hurt feelings and wounded pride. It's all taken a big toll on me. I can't get excited about baking or cooking. I hate the holidays now, especially Thanksgiving which used to be so special to me. I feel restless and paralyzed in nearly every aspect of life. I know I've let down a lot of people and I have no idea how to fix it. I waffle between staying at home alone stuck in own mind or keeping so busy that I'm too tired to think of how much it all hurts.
I have been living inside books for as long as I can remember. They've always been an escape from a world that isn't always kind. In a world where I never really felt that I fit in, books always accepted me as I was and helped me to not feel quite so alone. In the past few years, I've taken a hard veer into romance novels. Perhaps because I've been excruciatingly lonely or because love and happy endings have always seemed so impossible to hold onto. Indulging in my favorite werewolf smut or dreaming of a life so far away while immersing myself in tales set in Scotland. Books where everyone has compatible kinks, where fit men aren't turned off by a curvy girl who likes to eat, people travel to new places and meet the people that call to their souls, and perfect polyam relationships that don't end with someone getting crushed.
In books, when a character loses the person they love, they always say they don't regret it and that they would still do things the same way even knowing how it ends. I've been having a hard time wrapping my mind around that concept. Sometimes it's hard to read through the conflicts and tension that are inevitable in books that are completely wrapped in high emotions. It can make me physically uncomfortable because I need so badly for everything to end happily, for everyone to talk out their problems and work through their issues, to fight for something worth fighting for. Because in my life, no one has ever once fought for me. The loss of two of the people I love most in this world is a blow that still sometimes hurts so much I can hardly breathe through the pain. I have no closure and I've spent too much time analyzing everything I did or said that could have pushed them away. It's hard to read books about love when you no longer believe that it exists. It's hard to read books that accurately describe the comfort of subspace when you know you won't trust anyone with that part of you again. It's hard to read books about chosen families when mine walked away. I've packed those parts of myself away now. The parts that I don't trust with anyone else. Dreams that now seem foolish. I go through the motions of holidays I am no longer capable of enjoying. Do my guts have shit for brains? Do I live in a fantasy world because I've read too many HEAs? Perhaps. Maybe I should try harder not to lose myself by escaping in books. But the world is an unfair place. Everyone doesn't get a happily ever after. Every ending doesn't get wrapped up in a neat little bow. All the questions don't get answered. Sometimes it hurts too much to face the cold alone. And so...I read.
If you also need to lose yourself in a fake reality, here are some recommendations:
- Literally anything by Emily Henry but especially Book Lovers and Happy Place. She has been on Amazon's top 20 romance books for four years running now for a good reason. The way she build tension is delicious and she has this disturbing habit of writing down things that I've thought in my head but never said out loud. Her books capture really strong emotions I've had to deal with over the past few years.
- The Nights in Bliss, Colorado/Texas Sirens series by Lexi Blake. Fair warning, these books focus on ménage relationships and pretty serious BDSM, they can be pretty filthy if you've never been part of the scene. But they're truly sexy and always leave you wanting more.
- The Enchanted Highlands series by Tricia O'Malley. This one is pretty new, three books are out so far and number four is due on my Kindle in January. It's been a long time since I've been so anxiously waiting for the next book in a series. This book is set in Scotland and has some great fantasy aspects: kitchen witches, brownies, unicorns, kelpies, and even a ghost Highland coo. It's delightful.
- The Black River Pack series by Rochelle Paige. This is the start of three different shifter series set in the same universe and it is some good supernatural storytelling.
- I also love the following authors: Aurora Rose Reynolds (I've literally read everything she's written and have all of her upcoming stuff pre-ordered), Kendall Ryan, Lexi Buchanan, Stacey Lynn, Kelly Moran, Lexi Ryan, Mignon Mykel, Mari Carr, Kait Nolan
