Thursday, July 19, 2012

No,no, no.

My one and a month or so old neighbor has a new thing. She says, no, no, no. It's a good word to learn. And so very cute when it's coming from someone that sweet.
The Mc Phee piece that I read was about his relationship with the three editor in chiefs over his years at the New Yorker. It was interesting. If you're a working writer it's an inevitable relationship.
The last piece I had published was edited with a chainsaw. The edits included changing a cultural reference from one I knew to a performance artist I did not know. Heavy handed but OK. Make me sound hipper than I am. The edits that bothered me were sentences that I found badly written and did not want to see in a piece with my name attached. It was a small magazine. I was paid. Not much but I was paid. I complained about the editing. A flurry of emails were exchanged and the editor in chief (who was not the one who edited my piece) made a good faith effort to make it right. But it was already in print and I heard a lot of things but I never heard that anyone thought it was as heavy handed as I did. It was the last thing I ever sent out. It would be unfair to say that I stopped sending things out because of that one event but it had a big nasty impact.
Some of the people from my MFA program have done a great job of submitting writing. I'm sure they have piles of rejections. I have a pile and I didn't do near as much. Bukowsky submitted writing every single day. Or so I read. He was published but not that much. So he must have had a pile and a half. The problem for me is that by the time I started submitting writing I'd already piled up a bunch of other rejections in life. Jobs. Romance. Music. Assistance. General stuff. Specific stuff. I had drained my capacity to endure.
And then I got the job at EA.
And then I got laid off.
I tried to return the scooter because I'm just not using it. I feel too unsafe on it. But I've had it for too long and they only accept returns for fourteen days. I didn't know that but it wouldn't have mattered. I have and still do think I can use it if I just get on and try more often. It's not an unreasonable policy. They suggest I try to sell it.
This another part of the problem. When I am rejected I feel like it's my fault. I've failed. I've made a mistake.
I've been trying to apply for disability. Which is to say I've filled out some paperwork. I'm having trouble finishing it all. I've been told by so many people that they will say no the first time I apply. I'm just so sick of hearing that word.   
I'm an extremely lucky person in many ways. I have a nice apartment. I eat good quality food. I have books to read. I have people who care about me. I don't have all the medical care I need but I have some great health care providers. My doctor put me on a pain med a few weeks ago. I'd say it's reduced my general pain by more than half and my specific pains by thirty or forty percent. I haven't had any of the possible side effects. Pain medications (including pot) make me zoney. Less pain but no personality or functionality doesn't work. I take this one before I go to bed and it's helped me sleep. Some times. She said it was formally prescribed as an anti depressant but isn't used that way any more. The pharmacist said the same thing. I thought she'd found a way to put me on anti depressants. But judging by how crashed out I got when I couldn't return the scooter ... I'm not going to have that effect either.
Being in the pool has been good for my mood and my pain level. But I am aware that I'm still pretty shut down. 
Still sad. 
Still scared. 
Still hurt.
I process like crazy. I know I am globalizing and running a string through beads that don't match. 1700 people were laid off the day I was. It would be narcissistic to take it too personally. Almost all of the writing rejections I received included compliments about the writing. And romance...well. 
I'm ready to go to sleep but it's too early again. So I'll read. And watch some thing on the tube. And push the rock up the hill again tomorrow. 


Linda said...

I can really relate. I just feel so beaten down a lot of the time, paralyzed, afraid -- I am, admittedly, sensitive, meaning that I feel deeply and strongly and things stick to me and I can't shake them off. Something about my psychological makeup just does not fit in with this society, with its definitions of "normalcy". Thank you for writing (I know it can be hard to put out there, it is incredibly hard for me to put out there) because it is so nice to be reminded that I really truly am not alone, that there are others like me, there are others that know what it's like.

The pain sucks so much. For three years I had increasing inflammatory pain to the point where I could barely get out of bed (the doctors just kept telling me to go on a diet and exercise more, argh) and I *finally* figured out that it was food allergies. Thank god for the internet, otherwise I'd still be suffering.

Tish said...

I've been trying to watch the pain relative to specific foods, made some changes and had small successes.
Thanks for reading.