An Open Letter to Those Who Have Failed

Today I'm writing to everyone who has experienced the sting of failure at something that mattered to them.

You had a goal, maybe one you set for yourself, maybe one assigned to you by an authority figure (a boss, a parent, a teacher), and you were determined to fulfill it to the best of your ability. You knew it would be tough, but you rolled up your sleeves, pushed into the fray, and gave it your all. You put in that overtime, you eliminated distractions, and you pushed past every obstacle that tried to get in your way.

You did your absolute best to ensure that the product of your labors was the pinnacle of perfection...

...and it wasn't. Your essay came back with an undesirable grade stamped at the top, your boss told you to scrap the project and start over (or even fired you), or you created something and put it out into the world only to discover that no-one enjoyed or got anything worthwhile out of it. And in that moment, when the adrenaline rush of having completed your task spiraled down into a sick feeling in the pit of your gut, you had this thought at the forefront of your mind: "I had one job, and I failed."

This letter is for you.

As with many of my posts (of which I know this is the first in a very long time), I'm writing this from a place of experience. As many of you know, in late 2016, I published the third book in my fantasy series, 'The Sehret Chronicles: The Survivor'. And then in 2017, I pulled it from the market and announced that I intended to rewrite it and publish the new edition at an undefined later date.

Those of you who know that much likely also know that at that point, I essentially dropped off the face of the earth as far as writing and blogging were concerned (though, let’s be honest – I’ve never been good at blogging on a regular schedule). What you might not know is why.

When I finished writing 'The Survivor', I faced a rather challenging situation -- where with previous books, I'd been able to recruit more objective third parties to help look over my work and point out problem areas/tell me when I needed to work on something, I faced what one might call a "beta famine". Others were willing to look the book over for me, but found their schedules too busy to allow them to get through the giant of a manuscript I'd sent to them (upwards of 140K words in its first draft form). No matter how many I asked, and how many (I'm sure) fully intended to be of help, I got hardly any feedback, and my self-imposed deadline for publishing the book I'd spent three years writing and editing loomed menacingly.

I had to make a choice -- push back the deadline until I could get more substantial, objective feedback (probably the most sensible option), or rip into the manuscript based on my own judgment and what little input I'd managed to glean from others and publish the book "on time".

And I made what was admittedly a rash and incredibly risky call: I chose the second option. I combed through the book, chopped scenes relentlessly, tuned up as much as I could, and with much terror and stomach-twisting, I uploaded the manuscript and hit 'Publish'.

And it tanked. I mean absolutely, spectacularly TANKED.

This could have been partially due to my subpar self-marketing skills, but I largely blame myself for failing to hold out for better feedback and rushing to publish something that clearly was not ready to be released into the world. Beyond mere low sales figures, the only reviews I got on the book cited a plot in shambles, characters who didn't seem like themselves, and a message that was confusing and, in some places, actually disheartening.

When the first review came in and pointed out these glaring issues, I went to my parents' room in the middle of the night (yup, I'm a low-energy Lymie and still live at home), told my mom about the review, and cried my eyes out. My depression/anxiety/OCD/etc. kicked into overdrive, and my headspace got unspeakably dark. This was my primary method of ministry, of contributing to a world I was rarely able to reach otherwise, and instead of helping my target audience, I'd produced something disappointing and potentially discouraging. I wanted to pull the book right then and never publish anything ever again.

But years of talking to other indie authors have taught me that sometimes a few one- or two-star reviews are mere flukes, and that you shouldn't act on them unless they become a trend. I did not feel the review was malicious or even necessarily incorrect (I take reviews very seriously, especially when I can tell the reader is sincere), but as it was only one, I made the decision to leave the book on the market for a while and see what happened.

And then it came -- the second, lengthy and painstakingly detailed review, relating not only every single thing that I'd felt insecure about during the process of writing and editing the manuscript, but also concerns for aspects of the story with which I had been happy, or felt I'd done well for once. And I cried again. My stomach roiled. I felt like I'd failed utterly, like I could never recover from having thrown so much time and effort and passion into a project for three years of my life and produced a result as catastrophic as this.

This left me with a decision. From my perspective, I could have done one of four things:

1. Left the book on the market, accepted that it was the "black sheep" of the series, and tried to make up for my mistakes with the next installment,

2. Take it off the market and pretend it never existed, either proceeding with a new, completely different book or just leaving the series as-is,

3. Take it off the market and never publish anything again (something I seriously considered more than once), or

4. Take it off the market and try again.

After consulting trusted sources close to me (including an old writing buddy who was invaluable in providing feedback for the first two books), I chose the fourth option. I swallowed my pride (most of it, anyway), unpublished 'The Survivor', and posted my apology to the world, along with the promise that I would undergo a rewrite, and requested prayer, as I'd never done something this drastic before and knew that I would struggle once the euphoria of having a second chance wore off. (It was stressful having something on the market that I felt might not be good enough, and I gleaned some measure of relief from the knowledge that it wasn’t available to potential readers anymore.)

It's been seven months since I made that announcement, and the manuscript for said rewrite is still at... *checks current word count in Scrivener* ...6,587 words.

Yup, you read that correctly -- seven months, and the current version of the rewrite doesn't even contain a thousand words per each month I've been working on it. Granted, this is partially because I've made several attempts and, upon being unhappy with some of them, pulled scenes that would have added onto my measly word count. In any case, rewriting this book has been possibly (I daresay almost certainly) the most difficult thing I've ever done as a writer.

Why? Because every time I open that document or someone asks what I'm working on lately, I'm reminded that the whole reason I'm still working on this book is because I failed. As even one of the aforementioned reviewers acknowledged, I threw my heart and soul into the project and tried my best to make it everything it could and should have been, but still it flopped profoundly.

So every time I try to get back to work and make progress towards what I hope will be a better and more worthwhile result, it feels like I have someone leaning over my shoulder, continually whispering, "You failed. You failed at this once, and you'll fail at it again. You are a failure."

But I’d like to draw your attention to an important element of this post’s title: It is addressed to “Those Who Have Failed”, not to “Those Who Are Failures”.

It is crucial to draw a distinction between the two, and to understand that failing and being a failure as a person are two entirely different things. Everyone fails at something eventually, and while the consequences vary in their nature and severity, we (and especially the perfectionists among us) can all relate to the crushing discouragement that follows, and thus may glean much from the following one-liner that you’ve probably heard a million times:

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.”

But why should we “try, try again” when another attempt brings with it the potential to fail again? Would it not be safer to give up, to run up the white flag of surrender and save ourselves the heartache? Why should I put in another several months/years into rewriting a book from scratch when it brought me such agony last time despite everything I put into it?

As to the question of whether it would be “safer”, I would have to say that yes, from the perspective of a fearful human being, the idea of holding back from attempting something (especially something at which you've previously failed) would feel safer. After all, it's difficult to make the same mistake twice if you never make a second attempt at the pursuit in which the mistake was first made. 

To the question of whether it would be better, though, my answer would have to be… maybe not.

The reason I say “maybe” instead of “definitely” is because sometimes there are things we are truly not meant to do, either because they are not worthwhile pursuits or because they’re simply not part of God’s plan for us. So the first step following any failure should be to ask ourselves (and, more importantly, God) whether what we failed in doing is something we are meant to do.

If the answer is no, the next step should be to let go – there’s no point to continuing in something that wasn’t meant for you, and neither is there anything to be gained by holding onto guilt and regret over falling short in the pursuit of something that you weren’t meant to achieve. It’s okay. You’re allowed to not excel at some things, and you’re certainly allowed (and I would encourage you) to step away if you feel that what you are pursuing is getting in the way of something more important. God is the ultimate giver of second chances, and you can always seek Him and pursue His will anew, even if you find you've strayed from it before now. 

If the answer is yes, then that’s when you really need to buckle down and get brave. Because with every new beginning, there is risk. There is the potential for stress and failure and heartache, and there’s no way of knowing what lies on the road between where you begin and where you’re trying to go.

But is the risk of embarrassment or a temporary emotional low really worth turning away from something God has set before you to do?

This is where my answer has to be a resounding NO. And let me tell you why.

First off, if you’ve already consulted God (through prayer, the Bible, and the input of godly advisors) and determined that the seemingly failed pursuit is one you’re meant to undertake, nothing else matters. Nothing. Not fear, not shame, not any insecurities you might have (remember, Moses had speech difficulties and thought he wasn’t worthy of speaking on God’s behalf because of it). If God has set you on a path, He has a purpose for it, whether you see it or not, and He will bring you through it, no matter how many times you think you’ve faltered or even fallen along the way.

“Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ.”

- Philippians 1:6, KJV

"Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.

In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths."

- Proverbs 3:5-6, KJV

Second, if what you’re doing is for God and backed by His will, you can bet that any doubts and fears that might arise are not from Him. After all, if God is with you in your pursuits, then who are you doubting when you think things like, “I can’t do this”? It would be understandable to doubt yourself, as a fallible human being, especially when the Bible explicitly says that “without [God], ye can do nothing” (John 15:5, KJV). But if you’re doing God’s will and leaning on Him for the strength to follow through, then to doubt your future is to doubt Him. And that is an entirely different matter.

If we truly trust in God to direct our paths, we have no reason to fear, because He knows the way and is infinitely capable of getting us to the end of the road, regardless of our own inadequacies.

“For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.

Be not thou therefore ashamed of the testimony of our Lord, nor of me his prisoner: but be thou partaker of the afflictions of the gospel according to the power of God;

Who hath saved us, and called us with an holy calling, not according to our works, but according to his own purpose and grace, which was given us in Christ Jesus before the world began.”

- 2 Timothy 1:7-9, KJV

Third and finally, anything done for God is done with eternal benefits in mind, and thus, continuing in a difficult task when God is in it will ALWAYS be better and more worthwhile than anything we might lose in the process (time, energy, comfort, pride, etc.), and is certainly well worth the risk. 

This is why, despite how atrociously behind I am in my writing goals, no matter how badly I feel about myself as a writer or how much I would like to throw in the towel and give up trying, I refuse to give up. This is not out of pride or stubbornness (although I'd be lying if I said those never play a role in my decisions or my resolve), but rather because I believe God has set this task before me, and even if I failed the first time, I have to believe there was some purpose to my efforts (even if it was just to teach me a lesson -- for example, not to rush to publication like that again), and that what God has in store for me is worth pursuing. Because while I may have failed, and may often think of myself as a failure, God is not and has not, and I can trust Him to do His will through me regardless. 

I just have to press on, keep a stiff upper lip, and trust that the infallible God I serve will use even my stumbling efforts to His glory. 

If God is in what you're doing, then even your failures (crushing as they may seem at the moment) will lead to a greater victory in Him. This is our hope and our promise in the face of even the most devastating failure. 

“Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before,

I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded: and if in any thing ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this unto you.

Nevertheless, whereto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule, let us mind the same thing.”

- Philippians 3:13-16, KJV

Rejoice in the Lord (a cappella) - Hamilton Family

Character Interview #9: Shaetha Sohran

Hey again, digressors. So you've probably guessed what's happening today by the title of this post, but I'll tell you anyways. Last week, I opened up the forums (or the comments section, rather) for you to ask Shaetha Sohran questions. Well, the questions are in, and Shaetha is here to answer them.

Thanks for coming out today, Shaetha. So, here's the first question of the day. What lessons did your late father teach you about life through his sacrifice?

Oh... Um... Do I have to answer this?

Yes, you do.

But... Okay. Well... I guess he taught me that love has to be stronger than fear. The fear won't always go away, but if you really care about someone, then helping them needs to be more important than your fear. I think that's the definition of love, actually. It gives when it's hard, even when it hurts. Fear might be strong, but love has to be stronger, or it isn't really love. I suppose that's what I've learned.

What is the most difficult thing about getting over fear?

I guess for me, the hardest part is that a lot of the time, fear is based on something that's actually happened, either to me or someone else. In my case, I... I'm afraid of fire because of what happened to our house and our parents. So it makes it hard to fight my fear in that area because something bad actually happened, and for all I know, it could happen again. Not that it's likely, I guess, but it's possible. And some part of my mind refuses to let go of that reasoning, so it's a constant battle to keep disagreeing when what I fear is, in some way, realistic.

What advice would you give someone else who is trying to get over their fears?

First of all, breathe. Focus on dealing with the things you can influence in the present instead of working yourself up over things that might never happen. And pray, if you believe in God. I do, but I know not everyone does, so... I understand why praying might not come naturally. Remind yourself of what's real and what's not. Distract yourself if you have to, and spend time with people and places that make you feel safe. You can't control what happens, but you can control how you react to it. Of course... the thing is, a lot of what I've had to deal with isn't just fear. It's memories that seem like they're happening again, which then cause fear because I think it's all still happening. I can't really control those just by writing off my usual fears. Which makes it even more important for me to get somewhere safe and be near someone who understands and can remind me where I am. I don't think I'd be anywhere near getting over my fear of fire if I didn't have Lehn to help me.

What's your favorite thing to do?

As a hobby, or in general?

Either way. You choose.

Well... I know some people might think this is strange, but I love hugging. And being hugged. Is... is that too strange?

No, I know plenty of people who love hugging. And what about hobbies?

But you just said I could--

I changed my mind. Your hobbies? What do you like to do for fun? 

...I... I like drawing, but I'm sort of new to it, so I don't really know yet whether I'm any good or whether it's among my favorite things to do. And it might sound odd, but I actually like cooking. I enjoy mixing things together and preparing a meal for people I care about. Also, it makes me feel... powerful, I suppose, when I can use fire to do something good, even though I'm afraid of it.

What do you and your brother have in common? 
A lot of things, I guess, but we're still fairly different. He's more confident. And more fun-loving. And I don't think he really believes in Yahveh anymore, or at least not in the same way I do. But anyways... We do both love people and want to make others feel better as much as we can. Some people might even think Lehn is too friendly, which is kind of similar to how they think I ask too many questions and hover a little. I don't know. But I'd say that -- our love for people -- is the main thing we have in common. 

When you have the chance to listen to music, what kind do you like?

I don't get much of an opportunity to listen to music, but I like love ballads and hymns.

Are you a morning or a night person?

Morning. It feels more alive to me, and I don't like the dark. I prefer to have plenty of light so I can see things and move around.

What's your favorite season, and why?

I like spring. It has a lot of color, and it's more cheery than some of the other seasons.

Fun fact: Sohrem despises spring for a lot of the reasons you just mentioned.
...I'm sorry... But I like those things about it. I don't really prefer summer because it's too hot. Fall and winter are also good in their own ways.

Um, Shaetha, you don't have to compliment all the seasons. We just wanted to know which was your favorite.

I know, but... I don't want to make it sound like I think there's anything wrong with the other ones.

It doesn't. I think you've made absolutely sure of that by now. But anyways... If Lehn was in danger from a fire, would it be hard to save him, or would your protectiveness and love overpower your fear?

I don't really like to think about it...

Indulge us just for a minute, and then we can move on, okay?

All right... I'd like to think that I could save him, because I love him enough that I'd at least want to try. But I don't know what would happen if the memories took over. I might get stuck and be burned with him. Not that I wouldn't try, but I... I might not make it out. The decision to go in after him would be easy. It's what would happen afterwards that worries me, because I would either save him or die trying. I couldn't handle coming out without him.

If you had to use a weapon, what would be your weapon of choice?

No. I don't want a weapon of any kind.

The phrasing of the question implies that you wouldn't have the option to refuse.
I said no.

Come on -- what if an enemy attacked you or someone you loved? Would you just stand by and let them do it?
.........I... I don't know. I guess not. Maybe... maybe if I could have something that wouldn't hurt them too badly, that would just knock them out or take them down long enough for me to tie them up, I'd be all right.

Hey, you've used a sword before, haven't you? Oh, that's right -- you dropped it... So maybe that's not the best option. 
I don't want to talk about it. Are there any more questions? 

Just one. How do you feel about your name?

My... name?

Is there an echo in here?

No, I just... I guess I've never really thought about it, or not recently, anyways. I like my name well enough. People seem to think it fits me, in general. I like that there aren't any harsh noises in it.

I guess that could be considered a plus.
I think it is, anyways. You... you did say that was the last question, didn't you? I kind of have to get back to the others...

Yeah, that's fine. Just be careful, okay? You never know what might happen.
...That's comforting. Just please don't hurt anyone.

Uh-huh. Sure thing.
I'm not that naïve, you know...

Of course not. Goodbye, now.
But--

*escorts Shaetha back to her world and locks the door* Have fun storming the mountainside.

Okay, so I guess it's fairly unlikely that Shaetha will "storm" anything, but you never know. She can get surprisingly aggressive when she's under a great deal of stress and people she cares about are in jeopardy. Which are two things that have been happening a fair amount lately. But anyways. What do you think? What are some tips you would give to someone looking to overcome their fear? What's something that used to scare you (or still does) that you've pushed past to do what's right and/or achieve a goal that was important to you?

An Open Letter to Those Who Feel Left Behind

(Hey, fellow digressors -- I'm alive! I bet you were starting to wonder, huh? I've actually had this post mostly written for a while, but I'm only posting it now. Sorry about that. Just so you know, I do intend to address the short story situation, as well. And I'm sorry if the formatting is off; I'm using the Blogger app on my phone. That will probably drive me crazy until I can get to my laptop and fix it. Sorry, OCD/OCPD people; I never meant to cause you pain... *ahem* But I digress. 

[UPDATE: I fixed it! Yay! ...I shall let you read now.]) 

You're not sure when it started, exactly. Life was normal -- even if it wasn't always perfect, it was fairly predictable. Then something started to change. Maybe a friend moved to a different state or went off to college. Maybe a sibling went off and got married. Maybe you were diagnosed with a long-term illness. Whatever it was, when it came, you thought you would learn to deal with it. You and that friend would keep in touch often, the sibling would meet with you for lunch once a week, and all your friends assured you that your illness would not change anything between you. You exchanged e-mail addresses, agreed upon an ideal day of the week on which to meet, and started treatment for that illness, confident (or at least hopeful) that things would return to normal soon. 

But sometime between then and now, something has shifted. You no longer feel the security you once did. You don't hear as much from that friend or that sibling, or you find yourself incapable of fulfilling what most people consider to be basic tasks. Oh, sure, all around you life goes on. But somehow you just don't feel like you're part of it. You've begun to feel disconnected from your friend or sibling, or you feel stuck in a rut of lying in bed all day while everyone else works, goes to school, gets married, or just keeps chugging away at [insert ideal "normal activity" here]. 

And here you are, standing (or sitting, or lying) right where you were when it all started, stuck. Fading into the background. Left behind. 

This letter is for you. 

On August 28th, 2012, I rode with my mom to a doctor's appointment. In my lap, I held a notebook, and on my way to see the doctor, I scribbled all the symptoms I could think of that had plagued me for the past couple of years. I can remember a few of the items now: Fatigue. Brain fog. Memory problems. Arthritis. Muscle aches. Depression. Sensitivity to light. The list went on. Part of me thought it was ridiculous, that at least some of these symptoms had to be in my head. There were too many, and no-one had fully explained them. 

Well, I supposed, someone had. Upon describing some of my symptoms to a friend, they asked if we had investigated the possibility of Lyme Disease. Being a chronic Lymie herself, she was well-acquainted with the disease and even knew who we could visit to get it tested. By then, I had been through several tests, most of them involving blood work, one of them involving electrodes stuck to my chest for a day to measure my heartrate. Although this physician was fairly new to us, we figured that we might as well visit him and try to get some answers. And anyways, his blood tests only involved a prick of the finger rather than a needle stuck into the arm, and for me, the less invasive the needle, the better. (Needles. Blech. I can't even type the word without shuddering.) 

So we walked into the small practice where the doctor worked, and I held tight to the list of things that had plagued me over the recent months and years (more specifically, the past year and a half). We walked into his office and sat down, asked our questions, and I handed my lengthy list over to him. I remember that he told me the list was consistent with Lyme, but of course he would have to check my blood to make sure. I held out my hand, and he pricked my finger and smeared a drop of blood onto a glass slide. I had to look away, of course. I've never been good with blood. 

As you've probably figured out by now, it wasn't a normal test, where you take vials of blood and ship them off to a lab and test for a hundred different strands of disease. This was much simpler. You take the blood and put it under a dark field microscope, and then observe the cell activity and look for parasites. (And believe me, it is effective. It's just different, is all.) The doctor took a look, then switched on a small television set connected to the microscope, indicated all the telltale signs in the bloodstream, and confirmed our suspicions. 

I had Lyme Disease. And by his estimation (combined with our own accounts of when my symptoms had become noticeable), I'd had it for about a year and a half already without treatment. So not only did I have Lyme, but it was late-stage, chronic, and had gotten into my brain and nervous system, wreaking havoc there. 

Strangely, when I got the diagnosis, I did not panic. I did not cry. I did not even wonder much about how this might impact my life in the near future. I just thanked the doctor, went to the car with Mom, and while she stepped into a grocery store, I sat in the car and vented my thoughts and feelings into a document on my iPad as I came to terms with my new identity: 

"I have Lyme disease.

I have been diagnosed with Lyme disease.

I am a Lyme patient.

I am a Lyme sufferer.

I know what's wrong with me.

I know why I've been sick for the past two years.

I know why I've had to quit karate.

I know why my peanut allergy has become life-threatening.

I know why dairy makes my stomach upset, and gluten makes my head heavy.

I know why I'm depressed.

I know why my liver is on the verge of collapse.

It's not my fault.

I have Lyme disease.

I know why a debilitating fatigue sometimes sweeps over me, making it impossible to work.

I know why I'm always sick.

I know the name of my disease, the name of my tormentor.

I have answers.

I have closure.

I have peace.

I have Lyme disease."

In my eyes, at that moment, everything was a little brighter. Sure, I was sick, but we would soon make the illness go away, and I could return to life as normal. I would keep going to church and drama ministry group, and soon I would be able to help around the house again without ending up on the couch. People would look at me no differently from before, and within a few months, I would be normal again. 

Two and a half years later, still Lyme-ridden and depressed, anxious, foggy, etc., I've begun to feel stuck. I'll admit it. Yes, when I really think about it, I can point to ways that my illness has blessed me even as I've suffered from it. It's mellowed me, made me care more, and forced me to slow down and take things one day at a time. It's given me no option but to trust God with all that I have and am, and it's taught me to reach out to others and not wallow in my own problems (though I can't say I always succeed in this). 

But I am not perfect. I am human. I have a mind that likes to twist everything and make me feel all the things that are least helpful to my recovery or to my ability to serve God. I have a body that gives out on me randomly and nerves that wreak havoc with my ability to function in public or even sometimes at home. I smile to the world, while inside I'm just hoping and praying that soon I will find relief. I walk into stores, and people stare at my cane, then look away when they realize I've seen them. I throw myself into helping with a project, then try to avoid people's frustrated gazes when five minutes later I have to retreat to my room to collapse. I tell others to hold on and find hope in God, while inwardly I'm screaming and pleading with God to give me even a glimmer of that hope which I pray I've been able to pass on to others. 

Oftentimes, I feel alone. I feel scared and tired and hopeless. Sometimes I stare at my bottles of supplements and just think, "Why am I still taking these? I've been taking them for years, and I'm still sick. It's still costing my family money. What's the point?" 

And when my mind takes that turn, it also likes to dwell upon all the things I haven't done. I wanted to go to college. I'm too sick to go and probably wouldn't have the necessary concentration, either, even if my treatments hadn't made finances complicated. I pictured myself as a stay-at-home mom. I guess at this point I'm open to marriage, but since I'm almost never out in public, I've sort of accepted that men are unlikely to notice me (not that this is an entirely bad thing; being single leaves a lot of opportunities open), and I'm not sure I'd be able-bodied enough to keep up with the responsibilities involved in having my own household, much less in having and caring for kids. I want to get a job and be able to contribute to the family finances so I don't feel like a freeloader. Well, I do have a job, but it's not all that lucrative, and since it's basically freelance work, it's not all that regular of a paycheck, either. 

And then I look around me at all the people who are moving on with their lives and doing all these great things for God and others, and I feel left out. I feel invisible. 

I feel very left behind. 

Maybe you've been there. Maybe you still are there, and it hurts. You wish you didn't feel this way. You see others in situations worse than yours and feel like a whiner if you so much as open your mouth about your own problems. Part of you knows and understands that not everyone does life at the same pace and that it's fine for others to move on with their lives while yours is apparently in intermission. 

But then there's another part of you that wants to run after everyone and yell, "Stop! Wait for me! I don't want to be left out anymore!" 

I guess what Theodore Roosevelt said is true: "Comparison is the thief of joy." 

I know it's hard not to compare our lives to others' when we feel stuck and miserable, but it really gets us nowhere. For me, it just makes my depression worse and makes me want to try less. 

But for me, at least, at the heart of all this comparison is not necessarily jealousy or anger, though those do play their roles. For me, it's more that I feel like everyone else is doing what they're supposed to be doing, and I am somehow inadequate. I should be moving on and pushing through all my difficulties. Yes, I try to serve God where I am in the ways I can manage, but some part of me feels like that doesn't matter when I can't keep up with the everyday stuff that everyone else is doing. 

Okay. Let's stop right there. Enough of my pity party. What does the Bible have to say about this? 

"For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God. 

For which cause we faint not; but though our outer man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day. 

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory; 

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal." 

- 2 Corinthians 4:15-18 

Sometimes life is hard. Crazily hard. Unbearably so. Sometimes people get busy, health declines, and things start to look bleak. Sometimes you find yourself standing on the tracks, staring after the train of life as it pulls out of the station, and wonder why you didn't catch it in time. But God will make a way. Even if that way means trudging through the wilderness with sweat pouring from your brow, and even if no-one else you know takes exactly the same route or shares in your struggles, God will be there to help you keep moving at the proper pace (not the one everyone else is keeping), and He will give you rest when you finally reach the destination He has ordained for you. Maybe you can't see it now, but remember: Things are always harder to see clearly from a distance. When you get there, it will all become clear, and the struggle will be worth it. 

Recently I discussed marriage and parenthood with my mom, and expressed to her how unnerved I was by the idea of enduring childbirth. I mean, yeah, if I do get married, kids would be nice, but there has to be a reason why mothers scream and cry and curse the day they met their husbands as they bring their children into the world. She told me (not word-for-word, because I have a terrible memory), "When the labor is over, and they lay this cute little baby in your arms, and you realize that it came from you and your husband, the pain is left behind, and you wouldn't trade a moment of it for the world." 

So next time life gets hard and you feel left behind, just hang on and keep pressing forward. Don't worry about the pace; you'll get there eventually. You may not like where you are right now, but with God's help, you will reach your destination, and never again will you be left behind. 

Lies People Believe About Depression

So here's the thing, fellow digressors: there's a reason why this blog is called 'Digressions of a Demented Scribe'. Several reasons, actually. You've probably picked up on several of them, if not all. I am a highly random person who's just as likely to bring up Messy Mondays, Doctor Who, or the weather in Afghanistan as she is to talk about how her day went on her blog. I have a chronic, neurological disease that messes with my head and gives me such things as photophobia (no, I'm not afraid of light; it just hurts my eyes sometimes), neuropathy (like pins and needles in the hands and feet), neurological tics (that's a new one; I keep randomly jerking my head back and forth), anxiety, and depression. 

One one accepts the idea that Lyme is a real disease, and that it can be chronic (and believe me, not everyone is willing to accept that), most of these are readily forgiven. People understand that, if microscopic parasites have gotten into your bloodstream and made their way to your brain and throughout your nervous system, things are going to get a little wacky. Heads might jerk, light might sting, and it might get uncomfortable to walk. But things like depression and anxiety are often stigmatized, and are widely misunderstood, even if they come about in relation to a separate, officially diagnosed issue. Depression in itself is a diagnosable, treatable problem, but all the same, there are a number of lies that people in general tend to believe about it, whether they pay lip-service to those lies or whether they just hold them in the back of their minds as "something I heard from some knowledgeable friend once." 

So, without further ado, here are a few... 

Lies People Believe About Depression (Debunked) 

Depression is just a bad mood that comes and goes. 

Depression is more than just a bad mood, though such moods are common when the disease is present, due to a low amount of serotonin and other mood-regulating or pleasure-related chemicals in the brain. In fact, sometimes it is not a mood or a feeling at all, but an absence of feeling, and absence of pleasure or of the ability to appreciate what once made a person happy. It may frequently involve tears and guilt and a crushing feeling of hopelessness that strips you of everything you are. But oftentimes, it may keep you chained to your bed, or sitting in a chair in your room, staring at a blank wall or an empty page, struggling to feel, to remember what it might have been like to experience joy, or excitement, or even pain or sadness. It is more than a sadness -- it is a loss of self. And although the intensity of one's "bad mood" may rise and fall, that pervasive sense of being different, of being a non-self without the ability to "fix" oneself, or to even remember who that "self" was before depression, persists. 

Depression has no physical symptoms, and is not a viable disease. 

Clinical depression is a highly researched disease with multiple neurological symptoms, and is often made marginally more bearable through treatments and activities that promote the production of healthy chemicals in the brain, although this is only a temporary "fix" meant to help with day-by-day coping, not a cure. It can affect not only one's mood, but also sleep cycles, concentration, energy levels, body weight, and even a tendency towards substance abuse and other self-destructive behaviors (usually as methods of coping or escape). Genetics can also play a role -- some people carry a gene that makes them more likely to suffer from depression or a similar disorder, and this can be passed on to their offspring. Therefore, depression often runs in families, though severity may vary between affected family members. 

Depression impacts nothing beyond a person's basic mood swings. It does not interfere significantly with its victims' lives. 

Among the many documented symptoms of depression are fatigue, lack of focus, severe loss of motivation (to the point where some severe sufferers lose even the will to leave their beds in the morning), and a loss of interest in activities that would normally be pleasurable. I realize I am repeating myself here, but one of the major points here is that depression is not just a mood -- it is a disease, and it should be taken seriously. 

Depression is a choice people make. If they would just try harder, smile more, make an effort to think more positively, exercise more, etc., they could snap out of it. 

Sorry, no. While some of these suggestions might help to alleviate symptoms temporarily (for example, exercise has been proven to release pleasure-related chemicals in the brain of which the sufferer is usually deprived, and promotes health overall), they do not cure depression. A person with hypoglycemia needs frequent blood-sugar-boosting foods to keep them going, but the foods do not cure the hypoglycemia. They are necessary, yes, as exercise and other such things are necessary to someone with depression, but they do not cure the root problem. You would not give a hypoglycemic person a big jar of nuts and say, "Here you go -- you're cured. Now you don't have to worry about that pesky hypoglycemia anymore." Would you? Of course not. It might help deal with their deficiency in the short term, but their blood sugar will run low again when the nuts run out, because that is the nature of their condition. Likewise, you can do things to temporarily boost a depressed person's mood, but eventually the high will wear off. The disease is still there. That does not make the mood-boosters unnecessary or irrelevant, but it does mean that they will not be sufficient to cure the person of their issues on a permanent basis. 

Depression sufferers are selfish and immature because they choose to wallow in self-pity and bring down the moods of everyone around them. 

Most (if not all) depression sufferers actively spend their days battling with their own minds in an attempt to think positively. They are constantly bombarded with thoughts of, "You're pathetic. What's the point? Nobody likes you. Your life stinks. You stink. You should just lock yourself in your room and never come out again. You're a freak. You shouldn't even be talking to normal people. This is all your fault. You should be able to just walk out there and be normal." To even make the effort to leave one's room and participate in normal activities often takes tremendous effort, and is exhausting for the person battling them. Personally, I sometimes find myself telling my brain out loud to shut up and leave me alone. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. The point is, if people with depression always wallowed in self-pity and made no effort to push past the thoughts their brains manufactured for them, you would never see any of them (us) out of their (our) rooms or even attempting to do anything or to interact with people. If they let their brains win, they might not even live long enough for you to realize they were depressed. They are far from selfish pity-party-throwers -- they are warriors. And their private war should be respected, as hard as it may be to relate to something you cannot always see from the outside. 

Depression sufferers are just lazy and looking for an excuse to get out of work, school, etc. 

Depression sufferers would like nothing more than to be healthy and happy, and to move on with their lives just like the 'normal people'. They want to succeed and to be treated with the same respect as everyone else, and most of them work hard to earn that respect. I have never met one who did not wish they could just be normal and happy like everyone else. I've never met one depressed person who said, "Hey, this depression thing is really convenient. Now I have an excuse to lie around and do nothing all day." It just doesn't happen. If someone with depression appears to be lazy and unmotivated, it is only because they are exhausted and find the idea of doing anything productive daunting beyond belief. 

People with depression are insecure attention-seekers who need to get ahold of themselves. 

It is true that depression sufferers tend to be insecure, but very few actually seek attention unless they are truly desperate and don't know any other way to get help. Most live their lives in fear that those they know will discover the darkness of their inner lives and reject them. People with depression also tend to see themselves as burdens on those they love, and are particularly sensitive to rejection. As such, they do their best to hide their problems with others and appear as "normal" as possible, but when your mind insists on assaulting you on a regular basis, sometimes acting normal is impossible. 

People who try to express or alleviate their depressive symptoms through such destructive behaviors as cutting, eating disorders, drug abuse, etc., are freaks to be shunned, and will obviously go to Hell for making these choices. 

Okay, no. Just no. Where did this idea even originate? True, self-destructive behaviors are terrible things to adopt, and might even be categorized as sin by some, but nothing is beyond the grace of God. I mean, think about it -- God forgave and redeemed Saul of Tarsus, a man who built his reputation on his religious supremacy and persecution of Christ-followers. (Read the book of Acts. Saul is mentioned a couple of times in reference to the stoning of Stephen in chapters 5-7, but much of his story starts in chapter 9.) In fact, Saul of Tarsus became the Apostle Paul, one of the most faithful and effective witnesses for Christ ever to be seen. His crimes before coming to Christ were despicable, and I'm sure many believed he had no chance of redemption, but God worked through him nonetheless, and his mistakes now serve as a testament to us of how great God is and how mighty He is to save those who come to Him for forgiveness. 

So taking this into account, in what context can we assume that any person engaging in any behavior (no matter where their sins may fall on our scale of sinfulness) is past redemption? And beyond this, when is it okay to tell someone desperate enough to engage in self-destructive behaviors in an attempt to cope that they are irredeemable freaks unworthy of "righteous" people's attention? People who engage in self-destructive behaviors, while they may sometimes be crying for help with their actions, tend to engage in such behaviors as either a form of self-punishment, a release of tension, to make themselves feel again when depression has numbed them, or as a way to escape from the pain of their everyday lives. They are complex individuals created by God and loved infinitely by Him, and they are in pain. Excruciating pain. Pain so bad that they feel they need to hurt themselves just to survive. This may seem counter-intuitive, but it's common. And it is not your place, not my place, not anyone's place, to judge them. It is our place to love them and to do everything we can to help them deal with the problem behind these behaviors. You've heard that you can't treat the symptoms and ignore the disease and expect the patient to make a full recovery. Well, there you go. 

Depression is a character flaw, and proof that the sufferer doesn't really trust God like they should. 

Depression is a mental disease. It is neurological. It is perpetual. It is torturous and paralyzing. It is not a choice. It is not a mere state of mind. And it is not a sin. And for more on the subject of whether suffering is the result of a lack of trust in God, check out the book of Job. Seriously. Go look it up. Right now. Throughout the book, Job was judged and condemned by advisors who believed that his suffering was the result of some hidden sin, when all the while it was a test. It had nothing to do with Job's sins or with any lack of love for or trust in God. It had everything to do with putting the trust and love he had to the test, and proving just how strong and true it really was. Even when Job did not understand what was going on, even when he wished for death and questioned why God had brought it upon him, still he trusted that God was there, and glorified Him even when he didn't feel like doing it. Job did nothing to deserve his suffering. Likewise, whatever mistakes a person with depression may have made in their life, their depression should never be assumed to be a symptom of any hidden sin or lack of trust in God. Again, it is not our place to judge -- it is our place to accept people as they are, to acknowledge their pain without condemning them for it, and to love as God loves us. 

Depression is a temporary phase, and not to be taken seriously. 

Clinical depression, by its very definition, is a medical condition which can last months, years, or even for a person's entire life. It can severely impair its victims' ability to function and associate with others, or even to take care of themselves, and it drives some to take their own lives, either intentionally or by accident while engaging in self-destructive behaviors such as those listed above. And the longer it is left alone, the worse it gets. 

If someone with depression seems to have several good days and acts "normal" for longer than usual, this is a sign that their depression is gone, and should no longer be acknowledged as a reality. 

Sometimes people with depression have good days. They might even have an entire week of being able to behave normally, and those who are especially good at acting might be able to pass as a healthy individual for even longer. These highs, while enjoyable and encouraging, do not last forever, and often the depressed person may feel even worse when the high crashes, due to profound feelings of disappointment, fear, and guilt because they thought they were getting better. They truly want to be happy and healthy, as stated above, and when a high crashes, the loss of that empowering feeling may make the sufferer feel as though they have lost control. However, they may continue to fake the high so as not to disappoint their loved ones. In this way, the friends and family of depression sufferers are often left in the dark by a well-meaning person who only wants to spare them the hurt which the sufferer himself/herself bears every day and night. 

If you discover that someone you know is depressed, you should ignore their complaints and divert the conversation whenever possible. They will cheer up eventually on their own as long as no-one fosters their negativity. 

If you discover that someone you know is depressed, support them. Yes, cheering them up can sometimes be helpful (depending upon the person and how severe their depression is), and dwelling on the negative aspects of life can certainly be harmful. But what this person needs from you now is not just a pep talk, not just a cheery conversation about the weather or a TV show -- they need an ally, someone they know will be there no matter how rough things get, someone they can trust with their deepest insecurities. They need you to be the voice of sympathy and reason that does battle with the voices of insecurity and hopelessness that scream at them at all hours of the day. They need to feel that they can express their feelings and seek your help without being judged for what they say or do. Basically, actions speak louder than words, and your actions, whatever their nature, will positively scream your intentions in times like these. 

If depression is not a character flaw, then it must be the result of sin. Therefore, depression sufferers should be confronted and judged until they realize the error of their ways. 

Let's just start here: "Judge not, lest ye be judged." (Matthew 7:1, KJV) We already looked at the book of Job and discussed how suffering is not necessarily the result of sin or of a lack of trust in God. Suffering is a natural part of living in this sin-cursed world of ours. But even if it were the result of a person's own private sin, that is between them and God. Again, it is not your job to judge them. It is your job to love them. Yes, encourage them to think of good things. Gently encourage them to abstain from behaviors which harm themselves and others. Be honest, but also be loving. And in the case of depression, recognize the tremendous measure of strength it takes just to get through each day while suffering from this crippling disease. The error of their ways? Your friend, family member, etc. deserves a great big hug just for getting out of bed today, just for drawing breath again and again despite what their brain might try to make them do. Remember, you are not them. You do not know how they feel or what they are going through. You are in no position to judge them. 

And now, here's a big one: 

Depression sufferers are weak. 

No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. 

And again, just to clarify: NO. 

Try this: Imagine the person you trust most is standing in front of you, the person whose ideas tend to most often match your own, whose opinion you value above all others. Now imagine that they're spouting out lies about you, horrible lies that tear you down and strip away whatever dignity you might have had previously. Now imagine they're sitting on your shoulders, and that you're forced to carry their weight all day, every day, and that they keep whispering these horrible lies while you try to sleep at night. They repeatedly tap your head in the most irritating and distracting way, making it impossible to focus, and whenever you try to do anything enjoyable or productive, they scream the futility of your actions into your ear, and don't quiet down until you give up and go back to bed. Then they just go back to whispering. You try to shake them off, but every attempt just makes them grab on more tightly. It's as if they're stuck to you with Gorilla glue, and it takes more energy than it's worth to pry them loose, so after the first couple of days, you just give up and try to ignore them. 

And they blame you for all of it. 

Over time, you begin to realize that this is not a person on your back -- it is a monster, and it's digging its claws into you, especially into your head. It makes it hard to sleep at night, and hard to get up in the morning, and what seemed like just a set of hurtful annoyances on the first day becomes a terrible routine and soon, you start to believe that all this is somehow your fault. You deserve this. Maybe those things the monster is saying about you really are true. Maybe nothing you do has a point. Maybe there's not really glue sticking them to you; by now, you should have just been able to shake them off and move on with your life. But they're still there. So now you believe you are a pathetic weakling who deserves all this distraction, discouragement, etc., just by nature of the fact that you're not able to get rid of this horrible, destructive person on your own. 

Congratulations. You've just gotten a tiny glimpse of what it's like to live with clinical depression. 

Now imagine that everyone around you sees you limping along with this leech on your back, but either they cannot see your burden, or they choose to ignore it, despite any pleas you may manage to communicate to them. And they start spouting things at you: 

"It's just a bad mood. You'll be fine." 

"Something on your back? Of course not. It's all in your head." 

"This isn't going to affect your work, is it?" 

"You know, if you would just straighten up and smile more, you'd forget all about that imaginary monster on your back." 

"How can you be so selfish? You should be running alongside all the rest of us, not asking for help with some little pest that's supposedly on your back. Shut up and man up." 

"You're just doing this to get a break from work/school/chores, aren't you?" 

"Sheesh, quit whining so much. It's not like you really have anything to complain about. Get ahold of yourself. You wouldn't even have these problems if you'd just stop complaining so much." 

"If there really is something on your back, it must mean God is punishing you. You're such a horrible person." 

"You're such a weakling."  

How do you think you would feel? 

I hope this post has been helpful in debunking a few of the common myths regarding depression. My intent is not to antagonize anyone, but simply to shed some light on a commonly misunderstood condition and help those who know and love someone with depression be better equipped to understand and help them. 

If you are depressed and thinking about hurting yourself, or are already engaged in some self-destructive behavior, I urge you to seek help. Talk to a parent, a trusted friend, a doctor or your pastor, but realize that you do not have to deal with this alone. Even if you have difficulty finding the support you need in your immediate group of friends and family, there are other options. Sites such as IMAlive allow you to chat instantly with someone who is trained in crisis intervention and wants desperately to help you through this, and the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline can be reached at 1 (800) 273-8255. And above all else, remember that you are a unique human being created by God, loved infinitely by Him, and with a purpose in life far beyond anything you can see right now. However hopeless things might seem right now, you are not alone, and there is always hope. The next time you feel weak or worthless or like no-one cares, place your hand over your chest and feel your heartbeat, how it's still going despite everything that has happened to keep you from making it to today. And remember that Jesus Christ came to earth to give His life for you, to take your sins and pay for them with His own blood, because HE LOVES YOU. And no disease, no mistake you've made, nothing anyone else says can change that. 

Thanks for reading. Oh, yeah -- and Merry Christmas. I ought to make an effort to post something a bit more cheery before Christmas comes tomorrow. Is it tomorrow already? Wow. That's close. And guess what, you out there still reading this? You made it this far. Now keep holding on, and celebrate Christ's birth, death, and resurrection with me and everyone else who remembers the true meaning of the holiday. He came for you, you know. Christmas happens because God loved you enough to send His only son for you. I think that's something worth celebrating, don't you? 

But, of course... I digress. 

Character Interview #7: Sheth Terrem

Well, fellow digressors, it's the day before Thanksgiving. Wow. Where has the time gone? I mean, seriously. I can't believe 2015 is so near. There are a great many things I could put on my list of things I'm thankful for, but for now, I'll just share the results of Sheth Terrem's character interview with you all. I'll warn you in advance that Sheth, as a bookworm and an amateur historian, has certain obsessions which may be expressed through his answers. This is good for my lazy brain, which doesn't want to come up with extra questions to fill out the post. Whether it makes for an interesting interview remains to be seen. But anyways, here you are: An interview with the famous (or, er, not so famous) Sheth Terrem. 

Hey, buddy. How are you today? 

Buddy...? Isn't that what you always call Sohrem? 

Can't I have more than one buddy? And anyways, you were my buddy first, and I can call you whatever I want. So, what's your favorite food? 

I've learned over the years not to be a picky eater. My least favorite food would probably be keita bread, not because it tastes bad, necessarily, but just because I've had it so much. As for my favorite food... I like turkey. 

Turkey? Really? Out of all the food you've ever had, that's your favorite? 

I don't know. I'm not good at picking favorites. 

Huh. Turkey. Wow, what a coincidence... 

How's that? 

Nothing. It's an American thing. How do you feel about said fangirls? 

I wasn't aware I had any... 

Huh? Where have you been for the past couple of years? 

In Jaern...? Well, until recently. 

Oh, never mind. Listen, you have fangirls. So how do you feel about them? 

It seems a little strange, since I'm more used to fading into the background, but I guess I don't mind. I only hope people don't expect me to be perfect and always live up to their expectations. That could be a little intimidating. 

As a young kid, were you more interested in reading books and such, or was that something you enjoyed once you were older? 

My mother used to read to me, and I always enjoyed it. She did all my schooling, and taught me to read when I was seven. After that, we'd read to each other in turns, and eventually, she decided that she preferred for me to do all the reading aloud. My father never really got into it. He was more interested in the practical aspects of keeping the wagon together and such. I'm not even sure he knew how to read. He never approved of people sticking their heads into the clouds while there was work to be done. That made it a special thing between my mother and I. Though I do recall a few times where my father told me to keep reading, even when he pretended not to be interested. So maybe he enjoyed it, as well. 

So... Fangirls. What are your thoughts on them in general? 

I guess it depends upon how they handle themselves. I don't think infatuation is healthy, but it's only natural to admire people sometimes. So in that sense, I think fangirls are all right. Just so long as you don't make the person you admire the center of your life, or anything. 

Hm... So here's a question of my own: Have you ever been a fanboy? I mean, you read a lot, or used to, so you must have admired some character or historical figure in there, at least. 

I admire Rhedan, one of the instigators of the Rhenor Civil War. Well, technically, Dahker started it by attempting to overthrow the theocratic system. He organized a series of protests and speeches, and convinced a great number of people that the nation would be better off without Yahveh at the center. I think Dahker felt like the government was pushing faith on its citizens against their will, and he wanted to be free from it. But it got out of hand. 

*whispers* Grab some popcorn, fellow digressors. We might be here for a while. 

Excuse me? 

No, no, keep going. *eats popcorn* 

...I'm sorry. I guess I lecture too much. It's just a fascinating bit of history. 

Pleeeeeaaaaase? 

You must be bored. 

Procrastinating, actually. Go on. 

All right... Well, Dahker started a revolution, with the intent of reforming the government. It worked, but instead of just removing the expectation of belief, the unbelieving population turned on the Yahveh-followers, and tried to either kill them, drive them out, or make them renounce their faith. I only know what I've read in history books, but I get the impression that Dahker completely lost control of the revolution in the weeks after the rebels overthrew the system. 

Rhedan was a childhood friend of Dahker's, but he was also a Yahveh-follower, so he opposed the revolution, and then when things got violent, he helped a lot of other Followers escape into various tunnels and such outside of Rhenor territory, though by then it was called Khanor territory, and religious literature was forbidden. Some of them enocountered Kirat settlers and intermarried with them, which produced the Serdak, also called Dragon-Riders. Some left the mountains entirely and became the Reshen, the people in whose territories I've lived my whole life. And Rhedan and some others took a huge risk by venturing back into Khanor territory to witness to people and bring contraband literature to help those who still lived there and wanted to know more about Yahveh. Rhedan eventually gave his life while helping some believers escape Khanor law enforcement. Years later, Dahker left the Khanor and gave himself over to the Reshen, which makes me think that he didn't intend all the harm that came to be. 

Sooooo... Who do you think was right? 

Honestly? I'm not sure either Rhedan or Dahker were completely right or wrong. I don't believe the government should force anyone to believe in anything, however true it might be, but actually the revolution resulted in an outlawing of Yahveh-followership, essentially forcing people to say that He did not exist and forbidding them to practice their belief in Him if they did have it. If I had lived in their time, I think I would have been caught in the middle. But Rhedan ended up helping a lot of people, and he never gave up, no matter how bad things got. So you could say I'm a "fanboy" of Rhedan's. But of course, he was human just like everyone else, so I'm not blind enough to think he didn't have flaws. And... I just said entirely too much, didn't I? I'm sorry. 

No, actually, you aided my procrastination -- er, filled out the interview quite well. *ahem* What would you have said to your parents before they left if you knew they would (inevitably) die? 

...I think I still would have tried to convince them not to go. I would have told them I loved them, promised my father that I would stay sensible, and assured my mother that I would be all right. Now that I'm a Yahveh-follower, I would tell them about my faith and try to convince them to believe, too, but of course I didn't know about any of that back then. So... I guess that's it. I don't really want to talk about it anymore. 

Okay... Oh! Here's an extra question especially for Thanksgiving: What are you thankful for, Sheth? 

I'm thankful the Reshen still allow Yahveh-followers to practice freely, thankful that Sern stepped up and took me in all those years ago, and thankful that I met Yannah at Jaern. I'm also thankful to my parents for giving me a good upbringing, even if they didn't always get everything right. And since everything good comes from Yahveh, of course I have to be thankful to Him for caring and looking after me even when I make mistakes or question Him. And... I'm also thankful that not everyone gets upset with me for rambling like this. 

Oh, you get it from your mother. AUTHOR. You get it from me. Not your mother. I'm not... You know what I mean. 

...Right. May I go now? 

Sure. Happy Thanksgiving, bud. 

I'm not sure what that is, but all right... 

----------------------------------------------------------- 

Well, there it is, folks. I think Sheth's bookishness showed a little bit there. Just a little. That's okay; apparently, it's part of why people love him. It's also a very big part of why Sohrem doesn't like him, methinks. Oh, well. It's cute when he tells Yannah his stories. Maybe he should be a writer someday. 

Anyways. 

So what are y'all thankful for? I'm thankful for a loving family and friends who don't think I'm crazy even when I'm convinced that I am, for the means to treat this disease I have, and for the freedom to worship God freely and serve and write about Him without fear. I'm thankful for a brain that can still come up with stories, no matter how addled it might be, and for hands that can still hold a pen or use a keyboard so that others can experience those stories. I'm also thankful for my readers, who apparently find enough merit in my ramblings and far-fetched stories to keep reading them. 

How about food? Does your Thanksgiving dinner consist of traditional foods like turkey and pumpkin pie (the best parts of the meal, IMHO), or are you more unconventional? Will you watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade? I'm really not sure about that last one, myself. It seems to get less and less interesting for me every year, but I'm a traditionalist, so I'll probably at least watch part of it. I wonder what balloons they'll have this year, or whether we'll mostly just see the reporters' heads blocking the way...? Oh, well. I guess any view is better than none. 

...But, of course, I digress.