I got the new and improved, corrected perfect-bound proof and there’s nothing wrong with it. It’s perfect! Finally! Praise Moses and the sky! I can hardly believe it.
Not only that, I pressed that “enable” button to put this book officially into distribution. I can’t tell you how hard it was for me to do that. I had to do it fast and not think about it anymore. I’ve been having a rough time moving forward. If there are people out there that take a stance on something, even if they believe in themselves 100%, and never fear consequences of what the people that know them will think or feel about them, please email me and give me some tips. I find it hard to believe that people go through life with zero regrets or without a care in the world about how their views impact the people they love.
I know a lot of people that say they couldn’t care less, but do they?
Speaking of not caring less, Jenny Lawson, author of Let’s Pretend This Never Happened, and Furiously Happy, keeps a very cool, very lively blog (WORTH FOLLOWING). Today she posted about fighting with a friend regarding the saying, “I could care less.” Check it out it’s pretty funny.
Some weeks before, she posted about being depressed and it inspired me to not feel so bad about when I talk about my own brain cooties. Because, the truth of the matter is, I haven’t been doing well. I know I sound like a broken record. Do half the people even know what a record is anymore? Vinyl-collecting hipsters do I guess. Whatever, I’m just sorry that I’ve been talking about being so fucked up all the time. Or maybe not all the time, but it is a theme.
I guess I should not apologize. Should I apologize for my physical disabilities? No–even though I still think I have to! (Thanks Scientology!) It’s not my fault that I have mental illness. I don’t want it. If I could just stop it, don’t you think I would? I would like it better if I was able to socialize, or have better relationships. But I don’t. It’s torturous with most people. I can pretty much count on one hand who I’ve been able to keep healthy relationships with, and honestly, most of them are far away. And obviously, putting this book out has not been helping many of my long-time relationships.
In the 10 years it took me to write it, and more in recent months, I’ve lost several people that I’d always felt were highly important to me. They aren’t temporarily gone from my life either. They are out for good. Line in the sand and all of that. All of them are people in the book. Not a coincidence. They’ve been dropping like flies, I tell you. I feel like a rhinoceros is standing on my chest. And now I’m wanting another one, or two, to come along and pile on top of those. I wish they’d just squish me to the bone and put me out of my misery already.
Instead, I will just vent. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to, but brace yourselves. It’s coming, and it’s loud.