Happy last Flex Friday of This has been a big year with a wildly up-and-down trajectory β as I guess most years kind of go. Heaps to be happy about and grateful for. Bring it! Thanx to all of you for the support over the past year β both here on this page, and across my socials, at events and appearances, and by buying my books and continuing to support them.
It has meant that instead of feeling happy and festive, every December I feel deeply depressed. I am writing this with a more personal goal, because I have a demon to exorcise, personally and professionally, about the impact this has had on me. In , I made a generic, relatively cautious statement on social media about having had an encounter with someone I went no-contact with years ago. That comment was met with rage and abusive messages from several people I am related to.
I was to be punished, shunned and ostracised for having told the truth that I was not okay in that moment. I was too scared, and too emotionally rekt. Nor have I written any opinion pieces or other journalistic articles, both of which were goals of mine for When I did finally churn out a rough draft of my third novel in July, I rushed it, and I had to drink to be able to write it.
When I am in so much emotional pain that I need to drink to numb it, I always churn out substandard writing. Secondly, from Alanis Morissette, the advice to make self-expression paramount to the artist, regardless of what people might think of it: no sacred cows.
I have been unable to do either of these. My husband and I realised we have never put up a Christmas tree despite living together for years, so this year we bought a nice Christmas tree, set up our own Christmas Day rituals and made time to see people we do have healthy relationships with. It made Christmas happy and festive again.
