A recessional in the Terminal

22/08/2013 at 21:16 (Personal, Writing) (, , , , , , , , , , )

Well. After three years of drafting, cooling, forgetfulness of self in the face of the world … I’ve published my first short story, “Terminal”, up on Kindle.

This evening has splintered with angry words. My housemate has taken himself down a crass new route, and though I can’t be bothered to list everything that was said / inferred, rest assured that it was the final cutting blow to my patience. I cried. I hate doing this in front of people. But after a doctor’s appointment for a lump in my chest, still growing, and continuing pressures at work … It all made my head scream. Tonight was the closest I’ve come to lashing out and hurting someone, in a long time. I don’t like to think of the damage done, if I had.

Too bad. Too loud. Too much of one thing, not enough of another. I’m not coming apart at the seams, not yet. He had the gall to tell me to “be stronger” in the face of all that’s happened. Yes, because surviving anorexia, and sexual abuse, and parental breakup and a mental breakdown, isn’t enough to warrant being strong in this world.

I had no words in my throat to fling back. I won’t sink to his level of intimidation. I can prove my “strength” in this. He is a bully. But I’m not about to give the guys at work the giggle-factor of seeing ME behind bars for a change šŸ˜‰

Tonight, I made myself a published author. It feels pretty damn fine. I’m finally starting to live up to my own expectations.

And I owe it to this lovely lady, and her song:

Despite everything, I can smile tonight.

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