“Sara, what happened?”

“Were you in an accident?”

“Do you need me to push you?”

“Are you okay?”

I remember finally catching it empty one day and I rushed to sit in it. Everything looked different to me and everyone seemed to notice. After one person chimed in with the usual sympathy, I stepped out of the chair because I didn’t deserve their kindness. Yet I still looked longingly at the next kid who sat in the chair. I didn’t want to stand out as needy, but I felt crippled.

Oh, despair…

Sometimes when I tell people that I’m living on disability payments they say, “Oh, what’s your disability?!” Sometimes the tone is purely surprised, and other times it has a joking ring to it. When I say that my disability is mainly depression, they always look puzzled.

Now I know why I envied people in wheelchairs as a kid: people generally are a lot more accepting of pain or impairment if it’s visible. If I were in a wheelchair, I bet I’d rarely ever get the question, “Oh, what’s your disability?”

People in wheelchairs undoubtedly get rude comments, they get stigmatized, and have their own list of battles as a result of their condition. Being disabled in any way guarantees that people screw you over. But to my child’s mind, I wished I could have the simplicity of support I perceived surrounding our playschool wheelchair. I didn’t know how to explain my pain to the world and I needed a metaphor to hang on to.

I understand my pain better now that I’m older.  I’m accepting of my pain now. If someone asks I will tell them that my depression makes my life hard to live. Depression affects my thinking and my energy and my engagement in life. It affects my appetite and my sleep. It gives me headaches and stomach-aches.

To continue living I’ve had to relearn everything. I’ve had to stop beating up on myself for feeling depressed. I’ve had to learn to be kind to myself. I’ve had to learn to be patient with myself and with life.

Karen O of Yeah Yeah Yeahs has the most perfect voice. It is innocent, adorable, raw and pure.Yesterday I watched the music video for Yeah Yeah Yeahs’ Despair track. It captures my experience with depression, despair, and rebuilding my life. There is hope. It’s a battle, but there is hope and a future for all of us.

Trigger warning for violence and upsetting themes. The first full minute is this one guy getting beat up, but it’s a metaphor for the rest of the video. If it makes you queasy, skip ahead to 1:25.

I love it when artists capture the pain of life alongside the pleasure of life. Both Daisies and Bruises. Here’s the lyrics:

Yeah Yeah Yeahs ~ Despair

Don’t despair, you’re there
From beginning, to middle, to end
Don’t despair,
You’re there through my wasted days
You’re there through my wasted nights

Oh despair, you’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
You’re there through my wasted years
Through all my lonely fears, no tears
Run through my fingers, tears
They’re stinging my eyes, no tears

If it’s all in my head there’s nothing to fear
Nothing to fear inside
Through the darkness and the light
Some sun has got to rise

My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun

Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun

My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun

Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun

Oh despair, you were there through my wasted days
You’re there through my wasted nights
You’re there through my wasted years
You’re there through my wasted life

You’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
You’ve always been there
There through my wasted years
Through all of my lonely fears, no tears
Run through my fingers, tears
They’re stinging my eyes, no tears
We’re all on the edge, there’s nothing to fear
Nothing to fear inside

Through the darkness and the light
Some sun has got to rise

My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun

Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun

Some sun has got to rise

My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun
My sun is your sun

Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun
Your sun is our sun

Some sun has got to rise

“It’s too late at night to write a blog post.”

“I’m too tired to write eloquently.”

“I need to think about this idea more before I share it with the world.”

“Yeah, but if I write about ____ then people will judge me.”

“This topic is controversial and I don’t want to upset people.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“I’ve already posted too much lately.”

Raise your hand if you like any of those sentences for describing my blog.

No one? Yeah, that’s cause if I followed any of those lines of thinking completely, this blog wouldn’t even exist. I’m going to assume for a minute that all of you readers like reading my blog. If you don’t…er…leave or something. Come back anytime. The internet is a place for you to visit sites you’re interested in.

Having your own blog means that no one can tell you that you’re doing it wrong. I’m not going to piss off my boss and get in trouble for writing about something because I don’t have a boss. I can piss off my readers, but I’ll cross that bridge if I ever get there. There’s no point in trying to prevent it if it keeps me from writing anything at all.

I like being my own boss but working independently means that  I can get way too caught up with my own fears and insecurities. There’s no one else around to say, “Erin, get out of your own way!”

And, as much as I hate this back-and-forth arguing with myself, I think it’s important for me to document these things so you can see that I’m just a human being. I’m no prodigy genius spewing forth pure gold from my fingertips. I’m just a person fighting to make her own way in a world that likes people to be a cog in the machine of society. Independent artists don’t fit in with the machine metaphor.

I need to consciously tell myself that people want to hear from me. You, my readers, want to read what I have to say. I have a voice and I need to use it. I was born to communicate; we all are. SARK says that “expression is the opposite of depression.” I need to keep writing to keep my head above water. I need to. I will.

Remember that it’s important to write down the messages you tell yourself. It can give you some perspective. Write positive messages in your own words so that the sentence is relevant to you. I’m not positive all the time, but if I keep a record of positive thoughts then I can revisit them when I need to. I’ll be looking back at this post to keep me going.

I’ll be posting a new music post on Monday.  Keep on keepin’ on. ♥

I like the message, “You aren’t alone.” It can mean anything depending on your state of mind, but I like to use it in reference to mental illness. This week I’ve carried around clear mailing tape, scissors, and a bunch of my tiny fliers during my walks throughout downtown. I’ve taped up my “You aren’t alone” messages in bus shelters to promote hope and promote my blog to those curious enough to see what my URL leads to. I figure lots of people wait in bus shelters with little to look at, so my messages would be spotted there. Plus if it rained, my fliers wouldn’t be ruined as quickly in a sheltered spot.

Tonight while walking Digby I decided to check to see if my messages were still up in the two bus shelters closest to my apartment. To my dismay, both messages had been removed by some jerk within two days’ time. Dammit!

In re-examining each bus shelter, I realized that I rarely ever see fliers of any sort in those things. Someone pays to have their gigantic ad on the billboards in those spaces. Glancing at the top of each shelter I saw the creepy CBS logo with its ominous eye peering down at me, something I’d never noticed before.

So fuck bus shelters. Who needs them? Besides me and my little shred of hope taped up against plexiglass?

Yeah, on my walk back home I felt pretty discouraged, thinking that my fliers being removed symbolizes my entire life experience. I try to make a difference, and the world stops me. Someone tells me to shut up or to at least not talk because they’re the ones talking.

Lately I feel so stifled, especially being so broke. I’m sick of not having enough money, I’m sick of thinking about money, I’m sick of complaining about money. I need to start making more money or I need to move out of this apartment that I love as my home.

These small acts of bravery just won’t cut it. One palm-sized piece of coloured paper won’t magically get Londoners to read my blog entries and buy enough zines for me to pay my bills. I need to do something bigger. I need to step out of my comfort zone.

My fears of having a job stem from trauma. When I was abused, I couldn’t leave and protect myself like I needed to. Twenty-four years later, I still get triggered and scared when I don’t have complete control over my present surroundings. I’m afraid that if I give up control I will be hurt and trapped all over again.

I feel like my trauma experiences have me by the throat, but I need to hold faith in my adult powers. So, maybe working for someone else isn’t where I’m at in my recovery, but surviving trauma has its upsides that can work in my favour. I have an increased ability for survival, endurance, and creativity. I can hang on and fight.

So where is this going? I have some ideas. As usual, I’m going to keep you guessing but promise you that you’ll be the first to know whenever I do have news to share.

In the meantime, think about what hidden tools your past experiences have equipped you with. How can you make better use of those tools? How can we all turn pressure into diamonds?

When you have that all figured out, cruise on over to HYPERBOLE AND A HALF. That’s right, Allie is back with a new story about depression. See that creativity? Yeah, life is good.

I was so shocked by your support and generosity that I cried. I made enough money in 24 hours to pay for our website expenses and pay off the money I put on my Visa card for the zine copies. Some of you ordered zines and pins and some of you just gave me straight donations, the highest being $200 US.

In light of everything I’ve been going through lately, your response to my needs is no small thing. I feel flattered and honoured. I can only hope to continue to move you with my words in such a way that you feel valued in return.

I don’t write to make money, though I would like to make my living as a writer. Writing is much more valuable to me than money. I write to make life more bearable for both me and my readers. I write to share my experiences with mental illness so that you can feel some comfort and encouragement on your similar path to wellness.

So I’m not going to blog frequently about needing money because that need is constant in my life and in yours. But I am someone who keeps her word, so each and every dollar you help out with through purchasing items in my Etsy shop or through donation (my PayPal address is the_torn_skirt@hotmail.com) will go towards buying a laptop, so I can write more for you in turn. I’ll let you know when I have new zines in my Etsy shop and keep you updated on my “work life” of being a writer.

I just wanted to write a quick post to say THANK YOU! *HUGS*

Back to our mental health postings later this week!

♥ Erin

I’ve recoiled from life on multiple levels, including avoiding writing new blog posts. I’m isolating, choosing to stay in and read instead of going out with friends.

That said, I’ve been working hard. While the experience at the publisher’s shook me up, it also made me determined to reorganize my writing and work hard to take it to the next level by myself. I’m sick of being stepped on. I’m sick of being broke. I’m sick of settling for less than I deserve.

And by the way, I don’t actually feel like I deserve these things, not one hundred percent. But I need to survive in this world, and what I’ve been doing isn’t working for me. Artists need money, too!

So I’m stepping outside of my comfort zone and am asking for your help. Our domain name is expiring in about a month. It costs $25 to renew it for the year. On top of that, I want to pay for a year without advertisements on my blog. When I recently logged on to WordPress through my iPhone, I saw one of those awful ads saying, “Click here to learn this weird diet trick that got a single mom to lose x-number of pounds” and I almost threw my phone across the room. There is no way I want to promote anything unhealthy when readers visit my site. It costs another $25 annually to remove ads.

I live on disability payments. If I buy anything outside of necessities, I have to cut back on buying necessities. It sucks and I can do better. So thanks to something wonderful called a Visa card, I’ve printed a zillion copies of each issue of my zine, Daisies and Bruises, all of which are available now in my Etsy shop. You can buy them individually or in a set of 5 to receive all issues at once.

I’ve printed even more copies of my popular Letter to My Younger Self zine, making “Classroom Packs” available to anyone who wants to buy zines for a guidance counselor’s office, youth groups, etc. They are still available to buy individually, as well.

If you can help me out by buying a zine, or a pin, or a bunch of zines or a bunch of pins, it would me so much to me. And what happens if I make over $50 for the domain and advertisement expenses for my blog? After paying off my zine-printing expenses, any extra money goes into a fund for me to buy a laptop so I can blog on the go. As much as I love my Digby-puppy, he is one constant dude and to get any serious writing done I need to leave the apartment. Without a laptop, I can’t blog as much as I’d like to. So any extra money I make goes directly into saving for a laptop.

Click on the Support Fund pic below to visit my Etsy shop. If the item you’re looking for isn’t appearing, it’s because a copy has just sold and I need to relist it. I relist items almost immediately after they sell so check back in ten minutes or so. If you want more than one copy of any of my zines – there is no limit – email me at daisiesnbruises@gmail.com and we can set up a custom Etsy listing or an in-person swap if you live near me.

Want to order custom buttons? I can do 1 pin or any amount up to 1000 pins. Email me and I’ll send you my price list: daisiesnbruises@gmail.com

“I love your blog, Erin, but I’m as broke as you are. What can I do to support you without buying anything?”

Tell a friend about my blog! Tell three friends and tell them to tell their friends. Like the Daisies and Bruises Facebook page and link to my posts on your wall, your Tumblr, your Pinterest, and any other sites you can think of.

And if you’re feeling even more adventurous, ask me for a stack of fliers (for free) to distribute all over your city. Hand them out to friends, hand them out to enemies! Sneak them into the pages of library books, drop some in the waiting room at your therapist’s office.  Be creative!

Email me for some of these! daisiesnbruises@gmail.com

Ready, set, go! Let’s make the world a better place by spreading the word of mental health. Let’s decrease stigma. Let’s support independent publishing. Let’s start a movement! We’re in this together. :)

Thank you! ♥ ♥ ♥

I was probably the only student in the  history of A. B. Lucas Secondary School to skip class to go to the public library. Once my dad caught me downtown when I was supposed to be in class, but he didn’t worry when he saw me going into the central library downtown. If I’m not searching out free books to borrow I’m browsing titles at used book stores and visiting Chapters, spending hours among the shelves.

Yesterday I was daydreaming, staring idly at my bookshelf above my computer. I keep my favourite mental health books within arms reach at all times when blogging. Anyway, I realized that I haven’t recommended many of my favourite books to all of you yet. These books have been crucial to my survival. Go find them, buy them, sign them out, and see if they speak to your heart as they speak to mine:

Hello Cruel World: 101 Alternatives to Suicide for Teens, Freaks, and Other Outlaws by Kate Bornstein
- I’ve definitely talked about this one before. I swear I talk about it every day. It is THAT amazing. A real-life guide to coping in this crazy world.

The Noonday Demon: An Atlas of Depression by Andrew Solomon - Another major favourite of mine. Andrew has been through the darkest of times and is one survivor I couldn’t respect more.

Trauma Through a Child’s Eyes: Awakening the Ordinary Miracle of Healing by Peter A. Levine and Maggie Kline - This book really helped me become more compassionate to the younger self in me. It explains how trauma isn’t always as dramatic as a plane crash, especially for children. Whether or not you identify as someone who deals with trauma, I still recommend this book as a window to understanding childhood.

Pain: The Fifth Vital Sign: The Science and Culture of Why We Hurt by Marni Jackson - This book is SO fascinating! I especially recommend this book if you’re dealing with chronic pain, which often accompanies depression. This book taught me so much about why we feel pain, what pain is, and our society’s treatment options when it comes to coping.

Undercurrents: A Life Beneath the Surface by Martha Manning - This was the first book to ever help me put words to my suffering. I swear, I’ve copied down half of this book in my journal because it’s so full of amazing quotes. It’s written by a therapist who finds herself dealing with severe depression. I must reread this soon.

Telling:  A Memoir of Rape and Recovery by Patricia Weaver Franscisco - A must-read for anyone dealing with sexual abuse. I would never have spoken up to anyone about my abuse if it weren’t for this book. READ IT!

The Obsidian Mirror: Healing from Childhood Sexual Abuse by Louise M. Wisechild - This book describes the healing process through metaphor, better than any other book I’ve ever read. There are some graphic descriptions of sexual abuse, but the fierce bravery of this entire book will heal more than it triggers. I read it last year and I already want to read it again

Mind Over Mood: Change How You Feel by Changing the Way You Think by Dennis Greenberger and Christine Padesky - I haven’t finished this work-book yet but it’s the best one out there for cognitive behavioural therapy. I’ve heard it recommended by many many therapists. A must-read/do if you struggle with perfectionism, talking yourself out of stuff, and depression overall. Changing your thinking works helps you feel better immediately.

Those are my top book recommendations for you for now. I also recommend checking out my Books page for some great fiction titles. I can talk about books for ever and ever and ever so if you feel like recommending some titles in the comments here please do!

Unrelated: my previous post was my 150th post! Yay for milestones!

Tagged: books, CBT, cognitive behavioural therapy, coping, depression, goals, growth, school, support, the life of erin, writing ]]> http://daisiesandbruises.com/2013/04/03/my-favourite-mental-health-books/feed/ 1 daisiesandbruises mentalhealthbooks http://daisiesandbruises.com/2013/03/29/thanks-mr-publisher/ http://daisiesandbruises.com/2013/03/29/thanks-mr-publisher/#comments Sat, 30 Mar 2013 02:26:19 +0000 daisiesandbruises http://daisiesandbruises.com/?p=2119 ]]> This post is part two of my story detailing just what happened when I met with a book publisher this week. Read part one here!

To recap, a publisher out of Toronto approached me at the Indie Media Fair three weeks ago and offered me a book deal. This Wednesday my dad and my sister drove with me to Toronto to meet with the publisher to sign a contract. After talking with Cordelia Strube, Cheryl Rainfield, and Maranda Elizabeth, and reading extensively about writer contracts, I sent an email the night before our meeting. I bravely asked the publisher for what I feel like my work is worth.

The publisher’s office was in what appeared to be a very rough part of Toronto. I hopped out of the car and grabbed my portfolio as my dad and sister shouted encouraging comments out the windows.

Walking into the office, it took my eyes a moment to adjust to the poor lighting. The office was essentially a warehouse with four desks in it. I looked around and saw the girl with the multicolored hair whom I’d talked to online.

“Hi, I’m Erin,” I said. I went to shake her hand and I surprised her greatly.

The publisher I’d met at the Indie Media Fair said hello from the back of the room and asked me if I wanted to see the print room. “Everyone gets really excited to see it but I don’t,” he admitted. I followed him into room that was at least ten degrees warmer than the main office as copiers the size of my first car churned out pages and pages. There was a man hard at work moving paper. He didn’t look up. I rested my hand on a vintage letter-press machine, marveling at the woodwork. When I turned around I saw that the publisher had already left the room.

I joined him and three other people at a table in the middle of the office. “Let’s see your art,” the publisher said. I opened my portfolio and handed him my file folders full of my work.

“Your friends who gave you advice on contracts know nothing about the publishing industry,” he said. “The days of pre-printing books are over. We print a few books, ship them out to local stores and radio stations and hope someone cares enough to give them a look. We would never give a new author an advance…”

This publisher continued a rant about how the only chance I had to getting my work read was by publishing through someone like him. I asked who the target audience for my book would be and he answered, “Eighteen to forty-year-olds.”  I judged him to be about sixty.

“Would I be able to buy my books from you at a discount to sell to my friends and family or at my craft fair tables?” I asked.

“No!” he laughed. “If you put a published book beside these e-zines of yours people wouldn’t know what to do with it. It would never sell.”

Excuse me?!

He tossed a familiar envelope to me from across the table. “We don’t need these,” he said. Peering inside the express post cardboard, I saw the zines that I’d carefully arranged to ship to the publishers’ two weeks ago. They hadn’t even taken my zines out of the envelope.

That pretty much sealed the deal for me. Whether that publisher was a fan of zines or not, there was no way I was letting him near a book of mine if he didn’t at least pretend that he respected my previous work. After all, didn’t he find my writing through my zines in the first place?

As I sat there politely, I was thinking of all of you. Talking with you directly through my blog and through my zines feels as natural to me as breathing. I want my writing to stay accessible, not be taken from me and packaged up to selective buyers in the commercial world. Yes, one day I would love to be published by a bigger press, but until I meet a publisher who meets my standards, I’m sticking to the one I already have:  ME. If that means I self-publish until the day I die, so be it.

If this publisher had said, “We’re a small press without the funds to provide an advance to first time writers, but we do a great job at printing, publicizing, and marketing our work. We will give your book the best sales effort we possibly can,”  I’d have said yes in a heartbeat. A good attitude means sales. Bad attitudes, not so much. Why would I want to help someone who didn’t believe in their own business?

I thanked the publisher for his time and walked out into the rain with my portfolio under my arm. I told him I’d “think about it” but within fifteen minutes of leaving the office I knew one hundred percent what I wanted to do. I emailed him from my iPhone, thanking him for his offer while politely declining.

This publisher rubbed me the wrong way, but in the end, I am flattered that he was interested in my work. That is a real compliment. It isn’t very rewarding to me, however, compared to the connections I’ve made through selling my work myself. I talk to my readers and you talk back. I’ve met all of my closest friends through my writing. I wouldn’t trade this experience for the world.

I didn’t write my zines to be a book, I wrote them to be zines. If I’d intended to write a book I would’ve done a lot of things differently, and I didn’t need someone who went to school forty years ago to tell me so.

I have to assemble my work myself, book tables at craft and zine fairs, and run those tables. I have shipping costs to deal with and publicity relies on me alone. But do you know what? It’s kind of working for me. I’m making more money off my zines the way I’m doing it now than I could from working with a publisher. This publishing company was hoping to print one to three hundred copies of my book with the hopes that people would be interested. I’ve already sold 291 zines through my Etsy shop alone, not to mention countless copies sold at craft fairs.

I agree that I know little about the publishing world, but with the advance of the internet, that world is quickly changing. Just like the music industry is. Publishers that sell books to big box stores are going to go out of business unless they turn around and meet writers where they are at. They are at places where people openly share ideas instead of dreaming about one day meeting an elusive writer in the sky. The Great Oz is just a confused old man behind the curtain, grasping at straws. The new world of independent publishing is a strong force that isn’t going to be bullied away.

The result of this whole affair is a writer who values her own work enough to stand by it. Who values her readers enough to work with them directly. This writer just got a huge look into the publishing world, and now she knows how to play the game by using her own rules and listening to her readers.

Thanks, Mr. Publisher, but I’ll take it from here.

I understand that Mr _______, the Publisher, had spoken to you last weekend in London. He was quite taken with your work, both for its simplicity and its honestly.  We would be interested in looking at your work, specifically the diaries, with a view to publish. If we were to publish we would be looking at a volume of approximately 30-40 pages, perfect bound, 7×7 inches or 8×8 inches, full colour cover. We may decide to do the whole work full colour but that has not been discussed in depth. We would hope for a Summer publication date. Our normal contract for a first time writer is between 5% and 8%. 

Wonderful, right? I was SO excited.  I’ve dreamed of being a published writer my entire life, but I never thought it could happen so soon. After talking with this publisher more and more, we worked out a possible deal for a full-colour book, with all of my art included. I literally started talking in my sleep about being a published author.

I didn’t want to tell all of you until I signed the contract, but I hinted at something I was super excited about in my post, Spring Always Comes. I emailed Cordelia Strube, this amazing author I’d met at the Kingston Writer’s Fest years ago, and asked her what to expect in a book contract. What should I sign off on, and what shouldn’t I agree to? Cordelia took the time to send me a very detailed email about what to expect, and constitutes a good publisher. I was so grateful! She has nine books published, and you should check them out when you’re done reading this post.

I even contacted Cheryl Rainfield, another awesome writer from Ontario who knows the publishing world. She gave me a few tips and some great links that told me all about signing a contract. My good friend Maranda Elizabeth helped me out too, telling me all about their experience publishing 27 issues of their zine Telegram into a full-sized book, through Mend My Dress Press.

I dug up the original copies of my Daisies and Bruises zine, issues one through five. I even ripped pages out of my art journal so the publishers had my original art pieces to see in our meeting. I borrowed my sister’s giant art portfolio and picked out my most professional-looking clothing.

The day before my big trip to Toronto, I emailed the publisher, asking for a copy of the contract to look over. When I received an email back saying they didn’t have a standard contract to send me, I asked if the contract was negotiable. Taking cues from my correspondence with my author friends, I added that I hoped for an advance and I would appreciate receiving 8% from each book sold.

After all, I’ve been making money selling my zines for years now, never sharing the profit with anyone. I felt confident that my writing was worth it. Plus I’m way more confident in writing than I am in person, so I slipped in my request early so that they had time to discuss my writing’s worth.

The publisher emailed me back that night, stating that they never give first time authors an advance. They said if I was looking for an advance I should go elsewhere. Was I still interested in meeting with them? I answered, yes, of course! I said that everything I’d requested was negotiable, and was looking forward to meeting them the next day.

The night before my meeting in Toronto, I recognized a nagging feeling in my gut that something wasn’t right. I told myself that I still had to go to the meeting. After all, I’m a new writer – what do I know? I talked it over with my parents and they said that I shouldn’t worry. This publishing house stood behind some big names here in London, so everything could still turn out great.

Check in with Daisies and Bruises tomorrow to get the full details of my meeting with the publishing company. Here’s a hint: there’s a happy ending involved, but it’s not what you might think.

Tagged: anxiety, book, change, growth, hope, life direction, publisher, toronto, zine ]]> http://daisiesandbruises.com/2013/03/28/publisher-preparation/feed/ 6 daisiesandbruises 0fa273ee955911e2bfdf22000aa80117_7