Just Get Over It

by Doranna

1375930515977128357Coloured question marks.svg.medI know, I know. It’s been a while since I blogged about the doggy current events–even longer since I blogged actively at my place (Wordplay). Even though it’s ostensibly my own blog. Patty keeps regularly chugging forth on the Wordplay Write Horse Friday features, and yet from me…silence.

Usually I’m pretty decent about regular blogging–once a week, sometimes twice. There’s always something new going on with the dogs, always something to chat about with the writing. Because hey! Me = opinionated. Just ask me.

But now and then the universe proffers a butt-kick of the sort that throws everything out of whack. Here in Lymeville, I sort of teeter on the edge of “out of whack” as a matter of course, but the falls are most often little ones–a week here or there and then I’m back at it.

But summers are hard in general (I don’t easily manage heat or excessive light, because my nervous system is all the heck worked up). And it seems that losing Rena Beagle in June–the way it happened, the particular heartbreak of it–knocked me right over that edge, and this time it was a cliff edge. The world’s been duller; the hard stuff that we all face has been harder. The words have come slower, and the things we all do for fun just haven’t been fun. It’s just all too much.

Don’t even talk to me about blogging.

We put the boys into a barn hunt class, hoping to distract us all (it still took them about two weeks to stop howling for their girl). We continued with our tracking training, went to a couple of agility trials…but didn’t get from these activities what we’ve always gotten from them.

And I remained the unblogger.

So here I am, feeling the pressure. Either be a blogger, or don’t. Do it, or take it down so it’s not looming over me shouting “Failure to blog! Failure to Blog! FailFailFail!” What will I do? What WILL I do?*

*Okay, if you didn’t see those ancient Karl Malden commercials, this is not funny. Maybe it’s not funny anyway.

Sometimes life does this, I know that. It knocks us down, puts us in a place where recovery takes a while and we can’t really fake it. But I’m used to faking it. After twenty-eight years of (undiagnosed/untreated) Lyme, faking functionality is a way of life. I’m not used to being not able to fake it.

It shakes me. Severely.

I can recall previous times when life got intense–before I was sick, back when I was living in deep Appalachia as an aspiring writer with a strict daily page quota. Except then it seemed only natural that writing should ebb and flow along with everything else–and for the most part, it flowed. My goals for the year were realistic, based on the understanding that the muse is not machine.

These days that feels like luxury and instead of taking the option, I bash my way forward–or else walk around with the FAIL voice riding beside each ear to shout in stereo (sometimes with a cool doppler train effect). In truth, I think backing off without the guilt is the healthier way to deal with these moments. I mean, when we fall off cliff edges, why wouldn’t we need time to recover?

Do Do Do Do DO things. Sound familiar? Just get over it, pick it up, carry on.

Yeah, I guess that’s not happening.

In the event that you somehow know just exactly what I’m talking about, here’s a note to both of us: Our best really, truly is good enough.


(Meanwhile, because short little posts haven’t felt too hard, the adventures with suicidal mice, dogs in training, the agility trial hotel that’s now cleaner since Dart barfed there, Calypso the invisible rehomed barn cat and Mr. McKittypants the successor but far more erstwhile barn cat are ongoing at Facebook… )


The Right Bitch Trio by Doranna DurginDoranna’s quirky spirit has led to an eclectic and extensive publishing journey across genres. Beyond that, she hangs around outside her Southwest mountain home with horse and beagles who compete in agility, obedience, and tracking.

She doesn’t believe in mastering the beast within, but in channeling its power. For good or bad has yet to be decided…

Doranna’s ongoing releases include Nocturne paranormals and joyful new indie efforts–like the special BVC release of the Changespell Saga, and reader favorites like Wolverine’s Daughter and A Feral Darkness. Whee!

Not coincidentally, Doranna’s latest release at BVC has DOGS in it!



Just Get Over It — 9 Comments

  1. I haven’t heard about Calypso for a long time–has she been eaten by a coyote? I was wondering who Mr. McKittypants was when you swirled by my screen!

    I have been where you are, and I wish the few things that currently work for me would also work for you. You’ve been out of spoons this summer, and it is so hard to see that there will be a handful of them again, down the line.

    I hope that you wake up with a double handful of spoons soon!

  2. OMG, extra spoons! I would collapse into paroxysms of joy!

    There’s been no sign of Calypso one way or the other. She could easily still be hanging out in the arroyo–she’s got 7 years of survival under her belt!–but I’ve accepted that we’ll never know. She was an incredibly reclusive cat who had humanity forced upon her–a month in the shelter, then transition crate time here with us–and rather than adjusting, she seems to have completely rejected the comforts for the distance. Kind of…we all did what we could. :/

    The youngster is pretty much the opposite situation. Too young, not a clue, incredibly social but completely unsocialized. We’re climbing an intensely steep learning curve to get him in a position where he’s safe to spend some time outside. Honestly not sure where the journey will end up.

  3. Doranna, so sorry to hear this. I’ve had a rough few months with words myself–Lyme fog, I think and some other health issues–but losing a beloved pet and the resulting grief adds so much more to what you have to deal with. I hope that time and cooler weather will begin to help.


  4. I’m sorry to hear that things have been difficult this summer, Doranna. I echo what the others have said, particularly Ms. Kimbriel…you can only do what you can do, and sometimes we are our own worst critics. We’d forgive others things we cannot forgive ourselves, and that includes being completely out of energy.

    I don’t have an answer for this, either. But I hope things get better and that you can remember to tell yourself it’s OK to be human and have down days, even if there are many in a row. (I share this particular quirk; I have trouble telling myself the same exact thing.)

  5. Today I’m working particularly hard at this, after a very sick two weeks during which I daily claimed my need for extra rest yet expected me to get everything done in time anyway. Sometimes the human brain… Inexplicable.