The Year Is Dying, In the Night

My Dear Reader,

The year 2013 it at an end! This is the last day of it! Man, what a year this has been.

And really, considering it bears the dreaded thirteen, the year has not been so disastrous as it could have been. I mean, it's been a little disastrous, but fire and brimstone has yet to rain down on us, so I'm pleasantly surprised.

I find that it's the time between Christmas and New Year's that we reflect on the previous twelve months and all that we've accomplished in that time. In January, I made a lot of resolutions, because I had a strong desire to use this year to make myself a better person.

And I didn't accomplish all of them. But my big resolution? Reading 10 Classics is 2013? That beast has been conquered, my friend!

In fact, I might have read thirteen classics in 2013. Depending on what you see as a classic, I mean. Some of them were short. But one of them was Atlas Shrugged, which is probably the longest book I've ever read. And I read fantasy books on occasion.

I am a person who has read Atlas Shrugged. I feel like I earned a title. I feel like I should now be introduced as Cecily, Who Has Actually Read Atlas Shrugged. (That has a nice ring to it.) It wasn't that bad of a book, either. I didn't agree with everything, but I agreed with some things. It's one of those life-changing experiences.

But then, every classic I read is something of a life-changing experience. I think that's why they're classics. Some of them are hard to get through. But I think that there are certain stories that last because they have this special power to change you. There are some books that have changed the world.

And that's what I look for when I'm reading a book. I want to go into someone else's world and see through their eyes, and then come out and see my own world through a new perspective. I want to find truth and meaning. And that's something I found this year.

So, I'm going to do it again next year. I'm going to go for twelve books this time; one for every month. And I will occasionally blog about these books. I'm going to start out with Jane Eyre and Emma, two stories that I have seen multiple times (in movie form), but that I have never read. And like last year, I'm also going to read at least one book that intimidated me because of its length. It's either going to be Anna Karenina or War and Peace. But it might be both. We'll see.

But you know what, Gentle Reader? I'd like to invite you to do it with me. You don't have to read the same books that I read, or the amount of books that I read, but I'd like to challenge you to pick up a classic or two and see what it can teach you. You might find yourself on a grand adventure.

And everyone could use a grand adventure. Or two.

In the mean time, I'll be reading twelve classics in 2014. Wish me luck!

Regards, best wishes, and thrilling tales,

-Cecily Jane, Who Has Actually Read Atlas Shrugged

Out with the Old, In with the New

My Dear Reader,

As this year is wrapping up, I find myself in the middle of a lot of drastic changes. Changes that are difficult for me to handle, that have put me on an emotional roller coaster. To summarize:

1. My car broke down, which it has done three Decembers in a row
2. I am sick of my car breaking down
3. I can't fix my car, and since the transmission is dead, I'm not going to get any money from it
4. I got into debt fixing my car the last two times
5. I am sick of being in debt
6. I can't get to work without a car, as public transportation is not close enough to where I live
   
   Therefore, the only logical solution is:
   
7. I need to move somewhere closer to work and save some money.

All of this happened really fast, and it's kind of scary. I've been doing a lot of crying and a lot of praying.

Luckily for me, my grandpa lives two miles away from my office, and he'll take me in for free. He's been on his own since my grandmother died, so it's a win-win situation. And, you know, with the cost of insurance and maintenance, I'm thinking that I'm just going to go without a car for a while. Maybe for a whole year.

And that's kind of scary, too. I'm kind of terrified.

I really like the place where I live. I like the people I live with. I like the people I go to church with. And it feels like the moment my transmission went out, all of the things I love most about life went right a long with it. A lot of the things I've worked really hard for. A lot of my freedom.

But, at the same time, I can't say that I haven't been thinking about leaving. I've known for a while that I've needed a change. I've become less and less satisfied with things, and I didn't really know what those things were. But maybe I've just been here too long. Maybe I've already done everything I've needed to do here. Maybe it's time to do something somewhere else. But there are still so many good things here (and good people) that I don't want to leave.

I really, really don't want to leave. But this is the only choice that makes any sense. I'm lucky that I have any choices at all.

I'm planning on moving by the end of this week. I've got everything set up; I just need to actually do it. And I can't get myself to start packing. I just sit there and look at all my stuff and feel like this is happening so, so fast, and I don't know how I'm going to do it all. I don't know if taking the bus everywhere is going to work out. I don't know what to do with my broken-down car. I don't know if I'm going to like the people I'm going to go to church with. Usually, when I move, I have a lot of time to think about these things. Now, I just have a few days. I feels like I'm taking a big leap in the dark.

It's like I have these two competing sides to me, one of which loves spontaneity and change, and the other that has a hard time letting things go. I keep telling myself that this is good for me, that this is an adventure that I need in order to grow. I keep telling myself that my friends are always going to be here, even if it's a little harder for me to get to them.

And as a person with Clinical Depression™, I have to constantly remind myself that people really do care about me, and that they'll still care about me if I live on the other side of town.

And maybe that's what I'm scared of most of all. Maybe I'm scared that if I leave, no one will care about me anymore.

And there's a logical part of me that knows that it's not true. It knows that I have friends. It makes sense. It sees reality for what it is.

But it's not the part of me that feels. And it's the feeling part of me that is having such a hard time. It's the feeling part of me that is telling me that I'm all alone.

When I made the decision to leave, the feeling part of me expected no one to notice. It thought that I would just fade away, like dust in the wind. It feels like I have faded away along time ago. But the moment I started looking for someone to take my room, I have had an avalanche of attention that I didn't expect. People texting and messaging me at all hours to see if it was true. To see if I needed any help. To see if I will still be around.

And when things like that happen, the thinking and the feeling parts of me get together, and the thinking part says, "See? Don't you see? How can you deny this proof?"

And the feeling part of me says, "I can deny anything I wish, because I am too afraid to open my eyes and see for myself."

I'm still learning how to control the feeling part of me. I'm still learning how to believe that people care about me, because some days, that still seems like an impossible thing. But maybe that's the reason I'm going through all of this. Maybe it's time for me to open my eyes to a new kind of truth. Maybe it's time for me to start believing.

Maybe it's okay to start putting things in boxes.

But maybe I'll wait until tomorrow.

It's going to work out. One way or another, it's going to work out. I'm going to be okay.

It's just going to be hard for the next couple of weeks. But I'm strong. I can handle it.

I can handle anything.

Regards, best wishes, and faith,

-Cecily Jane

Group Texting Is THE WORST

My Dear Reader,

Group texting is THE WORST.

Why, you ask?

Because people have no idea how to properly use it.

Group texting, while not inherently evil, is a tool. But it's not like a screwdriver or a crowbar. It's more like a jackhammer. After all, when my phone is on vibrate, they make the same exact sound.

I can't take it any more, my Gentle Reader. I can't take the random texts at 1 AM from unknown numbers responding to a text I received yesterday. No more! The line must be drawn here, no further!

And this week, I'm not going to go into a personal story about how I learned a life lesson. This week, I'm just getting to the point.

Rules for Group Texting, Or How to Not Annoy Everyone You Know

Group texting is okay if:

• you are initiating a conversation within a small group of people who all have smart phones, unlimited data plans, and already know and like each other
• that's it; there's no other reason to group text

Group texting is not okay if:

• you are sending a large blast of information to everyone in your phone book who might be interested
• you are sending a text that only requires people to respond to you, and not to each other
• there is one or more person in your send list who does not have the phone number of another person or persons on your send list
• there is one or more person in your send list who does not know or does not like another person or persons in your send list
• there is one or more person in your send list who is out of data for the month
• it is before 9 AM or after 9 PM (in each recipient's respective time zone), unless you are certain that everyone on your send list is awake and will be for at least two more hours (if someone on your send list is a slow responder/not constantly glued to their phone, wait at least five hours before you know people will go to bed) (this is a longstanding rule of phone etiquette that you should have learned by third grade)

If you find yourself in a situation where group texting is not okay, go to your settings and turn your data off, then press send.

Before group texting, ask yourself the following questions:

• Can all of the people in my send list fit comfortably around my kitchen table?
• If they were around my kitchen table, would there be a lot of awkward silence and/or would I have to introduce everybody?
• Do all of the people in my send list need to know the responses of every other person in my send list?
• Is everyone in my send list usually awake and available for at least two more hours? 
• Can all of the people in my send list use their data to accept my text and its various responses?

If you answered "no" to any of the above questions, go to your settings and turn your data off, then press send.

Do not respond to a group text (or turn your data off before responding) if:

• you are not sure who the text was sent to
• you can see who it was sent to, and there are numbers you don't recognize
• it is before 9 AM or after 9 PM (in each recipient's respective time zone)
• you wouldn't feel comfortable shouting your response through a megaphone in Times Square

So there you have it, Gentle Reader. A comprehensive guide. Think of all of the awkwardness and accidental oversharing you and I can now prevent. Think of all of the people whose phone number is not dispensed to a random selection of strangers. Think of the people who will actually get to sleep through the night and make it to work on time.

We can use these rules and make this world a far less annoying place.

Regards, best wishes, and the power is yours,

-Cecily Jane

Yelp and the Power of Proactive Positivity

My Dear Reader,

I like saying nice things to people.

And I don't know If you've picked up on this, but I like books a lot. (I've tried to be subtle.)

You know what else I like? Independent book stores. So I'm going to say some nice things about those for a bit.

You have to understand that I'm a capitalist. I don't hate businesses based on their size. The computer I'm writing this post on is made by one of the bigger businesses out there, and I'm so glad that so many people were employed in order to get this computer to me. Truly.

But here's the thing: independent bookstores are better.

The reason is actually very simple. Big bookstores are typically staffed by people who are just there to get a paycheck while they're trying to find something better. Independent bookstores are staffed by people who love the living daylights out of books.

And if you buy books based on its ranking on the New York Times Best Sellers List (not a bad start), you're probably okay in a big store. You're also okay if you already know what you want.

But what if you go into a bookstore looking for an adventure? What if you step through that front door in the hopes of a grand discovery? Who will help you on your quest?

Probably not the kind of kid who just started last week. I mean, maybe, but probably not. And they do have algorithms out there, but I have yet to find one that can match the expertise of a bookstore owner.

Because you don't run your own bookstore unless you know a boatload or two about books. You don't make it your career unless it's your calling.

And that's why I love independent bookstores. Any literary experience so much better when a person of expert passion is involved. I know that I can go through those doors and emerge with something exciting and unexpected. Not to mention that used books tend to be a lot cheaper, and I could read myself out of house and home if I wasn't careful.

So, you can imagine how excited I was to find a new bookstore near my workplace. Like most bookstores, I entered and immediately felt that I belonged. And when I complimented the owner on her establishment, she said something interesting to me:

"You know," she said, "if you look up local bookstores online, we won't show up. Do you think you could give us a review on Yelp.com? Every time we get a review, we become more visible."

And since I occasionally work at a small cafe, I definitely can understand why a Yelp review is so important. When you don't have the cash to hire Sofía Vergara to promote your product, Yelp is pretty much your best option.

But here's the problem about Yelp: people usually only bother to review things when they have something bad to say.

But I'm not like that. As previously stated, I like saying nice things to people.

(By the way, you are doing an awesome job at reading this post.)

And, you know, if we can go online and say nice things about the businesses we love, maybe more people will find them. Maybe our proactive positivity can keep small bookstores around for the next generation of bookworms.

And if you're not into bookstores, we can no longer be friends that's okay. Proactive positivity can apply to diners, record stores, vintage clothing stores, and pretty much any place that you want to keep around.

Because if you have something nice to say, you should say it. Right? Because we all need a little niceness in our lives. We all need the support of others in order to succeed. This is a great, easy way to bring a little goodness into the world.

And especially my world, because if bookstores all vanish and I have to read all of my books on my phone, I might just cry.

Regards, best wishes, and you don't want to see me when I cry as it involves whale noises,

-Cecily Jane

P.S. I have two independent bookstores that I really love: Another Read Through in Portland and Escape Fiction in Salem. I know a lot of you aren't Oregon locals, so go ahead and leave some of your own recommendations in the comments!

Let Us Oft Speak Kind Words to Each Other

My Dear Reader,

When I was a girl, a particularly terrifying middle-aged woman from church told me that holding back compliments was a sin. Something about pride and whatnot. At the time, when I was already bombarded with warnings of all kinds of other sins to worry about, this was horrifying. No way the devil was going to take hold of me just because I forgot to tell Judy that her hair looked nice.

No. Way.

I don't know why that idea stuck in my brain, except that the deliverer is someone who used to stalk my nightmares.* But it did. And while I don't know if I ever truly believed that it was a sin, I maintain that withholding compliments is a bad idea.

That's why I have a policy that's like Thumper's rule, but in reverse. Thumper said, "If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all."

I say that if you can say something nice, you should say it.

The reason is simply that people need positive reinforcement. People need to know that the good they bring into the world does not go unnoticed. We need to know that even though life is discouraging, and even though we often fail, every once in a while we manage to do something right. Even if we do that something by accident.

And while we can often see the good that others do, we often can't see how other people struggle. Self-doubt is rampant, toxic, and mostly invisible. We have a grand opportunity to combat this great stumbling block—just by being kind.

It's an opportunity similar to the one that presented itself years ago at Girl's Camp, when a fellow camper sought me out to say that I had done a great job on a routine a group of us had performed. A small gesture, to be sure, unless you consider the fact that I was a stranger entering a tight-knit group of friends, and that I'd spent the whole week feeling like an outcast. That girl has probably forgotten all about what she did, but I will never forget how it felt to realize that I mattered at a time when I felt worthless and forgotten. Never.

And the truth is that you never really know what people are going through. You never really know what pain or fear they are trying to hide. And you never really know how much a kind word can mean to somebody who needs kindness.

And, really we all need kindness.

So why would you want to miss an opportunity to make that kind of an impact?

And sure, it's not an easy habit to form. I can tell you from experience that it is often scary or awkward. Sometimes you'll even find that the compliment is rejected or dismissed. But the times you fall flat are worth the times when you make a difference. As long as you are honest and sincere, you will have those moments. You will even witness miracles.

So if you have something nice to say, why don't you say it?

I'm sure Thumper would approve.

Regards, best wishes, and you are truly the best,

-Cecily Jane

*I had to endure, with alarming frequency, harsh lectures from her that sometimes lasted up to fifteen minutes and often drew a crowd. I survived by employing strategic eye rolling or singing songs in my head. Though I was a little rambunctious at that age (Mormon church is three hours long, and I have never been good at sitting still), I doubt that any kid would deserve that kind of treatment. Luckily, I have the chance to not be like that.

Pay No Attention to That Man Behind the Curtain!

My Dear Reader,

(Yes, I'm still working on my resolution to read ten classics in 2013.)

One of the great things about reading a children's book as an adult is the way a tale that merely entertained you years ago can suddenly become incredibly meaningful. Once you have been taught to look at stories critically, you start to see things that you never would have found before. Such was the case when I re-read The Wizard of Oz.

As familiar as I am with this story, I realized that this book is all about perception. It seems so obvious that I don’t know how I could have missed it! We all know that the Wizard of Oz is a fraud, but here are some things that are either missing from the movie or were emphasized and expanded in the book:

• The Scarecrow, who claims to be brainless, is the one who finds solutions for the majority of the problems faced on the Yellow Brick Road and beyond.

• The Tin Woodman (AKA the Tin Man), who claims to be heartless, is the most considerate and sensitive of the group, even to the point where he weeps openly and rusts.

• The Cowardly Lion, who does feel socially awkward and anxious, is brave and fearless when his friends need his help.*

• Dorothy, who feels so homesick, is the most centered and at peace with herself. Though she feels powerless, she is actually one of the most powerful people in Oz.

And, most importantly:

• Each one of these characters labeled themselves with these negative traits, usually with little prompting by others.

As a person with Clinical Depression™, this idea of self-labeling is a familiar one. My chemically-imbalanced brain produces negative thoughts, and sometimes these thoughts overflow into words that just kind of gush out. I often say that I can’t do this or I’m bad at that. I’m a terrible something-or-another-er. And really, when I say these things, I never think there is any harm. At the time, my words only seem like the unavoidable truth, and they’re so mild and harmless compared to the loud claxon in my brain that shrieks “You’re worthless, you’re a failure, and you ruin everything.” In the moment, I really feel like I’m being kind to myself in comparison. It’s not until later, when I am in a better state of mind, that I realize how unfairly I’ve painted myself. Really, I (like most people) am too complex to fit in one category or another. I try to put myself in a box, but I don’t really fit. There is a difference between having depression and being Depression Girl or Chronic Failure or whatever it is I feel like calling myself at the time. No label I could put on myself would be truly accurate.

But here’s the thing about The Wizard of Oz: nobody thinks twice about the labels that these characters give themselves, even after the labels are proved false. This is brought to a ridiculous and poignant extreme when the wizard admits point blank that he is a fraud (or a humbug, as he tells it), and yet the other characters still believe that he can magically solve their problems. It goes something like this:

Wizard: I’m a great wizard!

Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Awesome! You can solve ALL OF OUR PROBLEMS.

Wizard: Well, actually, I’m a big phony. All I’m really good at is special effects and showmanship. Besides, you guys all seem fine to me. Except Dorothy over there. Sorry, Dorothy.

Dorothy: I am greatly disappointed.

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Hey, we still have all of these problems! Solve them, please.

Wizard: But I can’t.

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: But you’re the wizard.

Wizard: But I’m not a wizard.

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Yes, you are. You told us so yourself.

Wizard: But then I explained to you that it was all a lie. In great detail.

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: But we still have these problems AND YOU’RE A WIZARD.

Wizard: No, I’m not!

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Yes, you are!

Wizard: No I’m not!

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Yes, you are!

Wizard: I never got my Hogwarts letter!

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Solve our problems!

Wizard: But I . . .

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: Wiz-ard! Wiz-ard! Wiz-ard!

Wizard: Okay, fine. Using my skills of special effects and showmanship, I will pretend to solve your problems just so you will leave me alone:

Wizard: [Uses skills of special effects and showmanship. Pretends to solve everybody’s problems.]

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: It’s a miracle! We’re saved!

Wizard: You’re the same, except for the addition of mostly worthless props.

Scarecrow, Tin Man, Lion: You’re the best wizard in all the land!

Wizard: Sigh.

The point here is something I have learned again and again in life: when you tell someone something about yourself, they generally believe it without question. Especially if you tell them something negative. And if you happen to misrepresent yourself, or if you change, you will have a heck of a time trying to get people to see and treat you differently. People’s perceptions have this annoying habit of sticking into people’s brains forever.

In my experience, some people won’t even change their mind after a decade and a mountain of proof. A decade.

I was teenager, people.

Ahem.

So when it comes to presenting yourself to others, it’s important to use good marketing. And when it comes to others, it’s important to remember to base your judgments on actual observations, not just what people tell you. Not even what people tell you about themselves.

Because we are all pretty hard on ourselves. And we all have this tendency to think that our problems and failures are worse than everybody else’s. But none of us fail all the time. None of us fit in a box.

And, like Dorothy, none of us know the extent of our true power and influence.

See? Look at that. All that truth from a children’s book. Who’da thunk?

Regards, best wishes, and self-compassion,

-Cecily Jane

*Unlike the movie, the “Cowardly” Lion does not run away when they fight the Wicked Witch. Instead, when she captures him and tries to turn him into a pack animal, he bravely refuses. He also jumps over large chasms and stuff. Really, of all the characters, the movie does him the greatest injustice.

Short Story: "Dreams"

My Dear Reader,

It's been a while since I've posted fiction on here, so here's a little something for you.

"Dreams"

By Cecily Jane

And that is when I realize that they don't love me.

Maybe they never have. Maybe what they love is this life they've made, complete with a house, two cars, and a respectable amount of children. They love their American Dream, and I'm only a part of it. An appendage to it.

I am an expendable part of their life.

That's why they're doing this. No one who loved me would do this. No one who loved me would make me put these chemicals inside me. No one who loved me would let these pills play with my brain and diminish me. They look at me, and they see only the darkness. They do not see the loneliness that feeds it. They do not see the child behind it. They only see a dark spot on their perfect life, and they want to bleach it out of existence. Never mind that I will be corroded, along with my pain. Never mind that I will fade into nothing. In their eyes, it will be a pleasant nothing. An empty shell that will smile vaguely on command and look good in pictures. That's all they want. They have no use for me.

I am a torrent of raging emotions. I am lost in the storm. I am reaching out to for something to hold onto, but they don't reach back. They just glare at me in disapproval.

And so they send me away to the cold professionals who will scoop out my insides.

This can't be love.

Love is what I hold onto, even if I've never seen it. Even if it's only a hope in my heart. If they love me then I have nothing left.

They can't love me.

They can't.

**************

We just don't know our baby anymore.

Neither of us know when it all started to change. There used to be laughter in our house. We took it for granted back then.

If only we could go back to how it used to be.

We are doing the best that we can. It's not enough to simply say that we are struggling. Each member of our family has problems, and with each passing day, those problems get harder to solve. This is not a band aid over a skinned knee. This is our last chance to bring our child back before we reach the point of no return. That's why we rely on those who know how to fix these problems. We put our baby in their hands in the hopes that we will have a future. It's a little scary when the bills come, and sometimes we're not sure where the money is going to come from. But they tell us that it's helping. They tell us that if we just pull through, there is a chance. So we do.

We are overwhelmed and exhausted. But it's not hard to see where this behavior will lead. We've read the articles. We go to seminars during lunch hour, holding hands as we are confronted yet again with symptoms and statistics. The future we have been shown is frightening.

We have to trust the people who understand what is happening to our child.

This is a problem we have to solve.

We do all of this so that one day, we can hear that laughter again. That's the hope we hold onto, even if it seems we may never hear it again. Our baby is everything.

We can't lose our baby.

We can't.

Regards, best wishes, and understanding,

-Cecily Jane