Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Sunshine, Martinis, and Shamrock Shakes
Friday was a real rush. Ayla walked on water and in the evening, we went out to celebrate the release of Stone and Spring. The tequila bar we wanted in Asheville was completely booked so we ended up at one of those silly Italian places. They all look and smell the same and the food is always mediocre but it didn't matter. I drank an extra dirty martini and it was perfect. We told the girls that they get to see their grandparents and cousins in a couple weeks for spring break and we all clinked our glasses. On the way home Indy said "Everybody in this family has one thing in common. We are all really funny." She later told me that "the w in wrinkled is silent because it wants to be good. All these other letters are noisy because they don't know any better." Bon Jovi came on and Ayla said, "Is this Oprah?" I have to write these things down before they disappear forever.
I am reading and writing again because I am done editing the book. It feels wonderful. I didn't have too much of a breakdown, though I did learn I can't wean myself off Wellbutrin just yet. On the second day without it, noon hit and found me doing my old "can't get out of the shower" routine, which is immediately followed by the "can't get dressed" routine which of course spirals quickly into the "I hate everything" routine. At this point I was so low that I didn't want to take a Wellby, but I did, and then I took the girls to McDonald's for disgusting shamrock shakes and watched them play in the sun. Now that I can control this depression it's a fascinating thing, watching it ebb and flow from a distance, its predictable phases, always the same troubling thoughts and behavior patterns. Then I take a pill and the clouds clear and I find myself again. It's a relief to know that I am not by nature a dark or troubled person. But this talk is all to heavy for spring.
In two weeks we get to go see my family, just the girls and I. I am really hoping to move back there before August, but no concrete roads out yet. So here I throw it out to the universe. Another thing I would like to throw out there is this: Elizabeth Aquino, a fiercely talented writer whose blog you should be reading if you're not already, wrote this lovely and generous review of Stone and Spring and I would be remiss not to link to it. I read it while drinking my dirty martini in the silly Italian restaurant and almost cried. Check out her blog, even if you don't read the review. Here you go.
And I want to say again how grateful I am for my gentle and beloved editor. She blogs anonymously so I won't link to her right now. But Stone and Spring wouldn't have seen daylight were it not for her. Thank you so much, dear A.
Every word of this post makes me happy. Yes, even the description of "can't get dressed" (how well I know it!) because it makes me happy that you can take a pill and disappear the lie of dark cloud thoughts. Your girl is very funny, and she learned it somewhere! I am so thrilled about your book; it is wonderfully done, so spare yet rich, and Elizabeth's review really captured it! And now your novel is done! You are real deal.
ReplyDeleteSuperb photo!
ReplyDeleteA stands for Angel. In my world, at least.
ReplyDeleteAnd as much as I curse "Big Pharma" most of the time, I gotta hand it to them when it comes to the antidepressants. For me, at least, and I guess for you. Anything that lets me be myself again is a miracle.
We are so proud of you. I downloaded your book last night and will start it tonight. I almost want to not read it yet, to save it for something special like a new velvet dress or a pair of diamond earrings. You know? But hell's bells, I'm just going to dive in.
I hope with all of my heart that you get to go home again. To stay. Although I love the idea that you live near my Jessie. That's being selfish and does not count for a damn thing.
Kisses, you sweet woman!
Depression sucks. It has me in it's grasp again, squeezing me so tight that tears keep falling our of my eyes.
ReplyDeleteCongrats all around for everything, my dear! Just everything. For the sun and the shamrock shakes and the story and the nerve to get out of the shower and keep at it. Just yes.
ReplyDeleteI am not reading any reviews of your story until I read it first, because I am so selfish that way. I want it all to myself for now. So many heartfelt congrats.