I'm a great example of why scolding and shaming kids whose brains work differently creates adults with low self-esteem and maladaptive coping mechanisms who work themselves until they burn out and then spiral into self-loathing.
I wasn't aware I had ADHD until I was in my 50s. I also wasn't aware that many of my problematic behaviors were the result of unresolved trauma. The behaviors correlated with these issues led to my being labeled as a hysterical neurotic by a real clown of a shrink back in 1981.
Borderline personality disorder, another label applied to me by mental health professionals, is the modern hysterical neurotic. There is a highly disproportionate tendency to diagnose female patients with borderline personality disorder. The label implies an organic fault in the patient's psychological presentation. However, patients diagnosed with borderline personality disorder have a history of abuse and trauma, often sexual trauma. So-called borderline personality disorder is a manifestation of complex PTSD.
My combination of undiagnosed ADHD and unresolved c-PTSD mimicked certain traits of type 2 bipolar disorder, which I was misdiagnosed with for approximately 15 years.
None of these diagnoses helped me heal my low self-esteem or taught me to monitor myself for signs of becoming overwhelmed. Neither mental nor physical health professionals ever guided me to learn time management skills or encouraged me to take care of myself. Most of them wanted to prescribe me pills that my brain doesn't like and send me on my way. That and admonishing me to lose weight because dieting fixes everything and certainly doesn't lead to any kind of increase in self-loathing or encourage a pathological relationship with eating. 😒
I have a long history of burning out after taking on too much. Employers would think I was a real shooting star until I came crashing down in flames. My mantra was, "I'll sleep when I'm dead." Decades of sleep deprivation, food insecurity, and stress led to the deterioration of my health. I didn't know who I was anymore when I could no longer work myself to death and had to go on disability.
I allowed myself to start working on my writing, a passion that has always sustained me but which I felt I couldn't prioritize because I wasn't "successful" at it. From a young age, I learned that money equals success and that anyone who isn't successful (read: making a lot of money) is a failure.
I advise anyone considering writing as a career because they want to become rich to find something else. Artistic professions are notorious for being hard to break into, particularly if your creations aren't mainstream. Mine certainly aren't.
I write in several genres. One of them has the potential to earn some income, but I probably do it wrong. The rest don't.
As C. L. Hart, I primarily write Lovecraftian fantasy and horror. However, I don't write the kind of horror that's likely to be made into a big-budget Hollywood film. I mostly write Twilight Zone-style horror, aka psychological horror with a moral message. I also write sweet romance as C. L. Hart because what could be more contradictory?
As Lil DeVille, I write smut. However, I don't write the right kind of smut to make the big bucks. I don't enjoy writing about alpha males and billionaires. I like writing about quirky characters discovering love and lust with each other.
I publish the Ornery Owl poetry collections under my real name. When was the last time you heard of a wealthy poet?
I write about mental health issues, particularly trauma, as Cara H. I only use my last initial in keeping with Alcoholics Anonymous guidelines. I'm not aspiring to be anyone but who I actually am when I reveal my truth. Striving for status plays no part in these ventures.
I managed to burn myself out on writing because I always try to do All The Things. The trouble is, oftentimes, when I try to do all the things, I end up doing none of the things because I crash and burn. Then, I end up mired in self-loathing. Rinse and repeat.
I spent the last couple weeks of September avoiding writing to get myself back on track for the final quarter of 2024. Rather than embroiling myself in the standard end-of-the-year pressure cooker, I am participating in a combined 60-day planning and writing challenge from Dabble and a 90-day writing challenge from AutoCrit. I am learning new strategies to help me enjoy creating again rather than trying to vomit out an enforced word count on cue.
There is no one-size-fits-all approach to writing. Don't try to force yourself to conform to someone else's standards. You'll only end up miserable.
Creating steamy romantic novelettes with a sense of humor as Lil DeVille
Penning poetry as Ornery Owl
1 comment:
Great post. I commend you for surviving all the crap thrown at you. Believe me, women everywhere - myself included - have been in the same boat. Long ago I came to the conclusion that I could make other people (parents or society) happy or I could make me happy. I chose me and have never regretted it. Until I came to that realization I had crippling anxiety attacks. I don't any longer. To hell with what other people do or think. Sad thing is, they really don't think of anyone at all but themselves. Other people are there for them to criticize so they hopefully feel better about themselves.
Post a Comment