Don’t
expect me to rip the bandage off any dark secrets in this year’s
#HoldOntoTheLight essay. No, I’m not blowing off the campaign. Yes, there’s a
blog ahead. But I’m not going to beat myself up about it. I’m snuffling through
the infamous Post Dragon-Con Crud (tm), and I lack the functional brain cells
necessary for any kind of depth.
Which
is the whole point. There are times even those of us blessed with a psychiatric
nurse/expert Jungian for a mother and a personality default of Mean Girl can’t
work up the energy for self-examination, much less meaningful social, political
or emotional action.
And
that’s okay.
Repeat
those words. Say them to yourself and own them, because it’s not only okay,
it’s important to your body and your soul to accept there are times when you
need to be nice to yourself.
I
won’t argue that disasters big and small crater the landscape—devastating
hurricanes, earthquakes, political chaos, bigotry, war, famine, plagues, the
fall of cultural icons and personal heartache. I also believe we need to throw
our shoulders to wheel and do everything we can to address the problems we
face. But not 24/7. The spirit may be willing, but the flesh is weak, and trust
me, the flesh will do everything in its power to drag the spirit down to its
level. When that happens, you do whatever you need to keep yourself going, no
matter how silly or frivolous it might appear.
2006
and 2007 were two of the worst years of my life. My dear friend and cowriter
Teri Smith suffered a fatal embolism in 2006, and my mother died the following
year. To. The. Day. I got through it thanks to three things: my husband, my
dearest and oldest friend Cath, and Duzie, the cat Teri and I rescued from the
halls of her apartment building a few weeks before she died.
Duzie
was my first cat. A better teacher in the ways of cat could not be found. He
was gentle and tolerant, allowing me to cry into his soft fur as long as
I wanted. But he had very definite views on his place in the food chain (at
the top) and in the house (wherever he damn well pleased).
But
he was also an old cat. He died in the spring of 2012 after a three-month
decline. For those of you who don’t have pets, it may seem strange, but those
three months were a nightmare flashback to the worst days of Teri’s and my
mom’s death, with an added load of guilt, because I didn’t know what was
happening, much less how to make it better. I should’ve been able to make it
better. I was an educated human being, with all the advantages of 21st century
veterinary medicine. Why couldn’t I help one small cat? And worse, the fear
that whispered in the dark of night: Were my efforts to save him adding to his pain?
I
quickly lost the ability to write. I expected that. It had happened before when
my mom went on hospice care. So I knew the desire and ability would return once
the worst of the grief had passed.
What
I didn’t expect was losing the will to read. Oh, I could still make sense of
words on a page. My comprehension was fine. But I lost all pleasure in the act.
The lifeboat that had carried me through the worst of bad times was gone. Why?
Because my emotional skin was too thin to suffer the conflict inherent in all
good stories.
It
took me a full two weeks after Duzie’s death to find something I could bear to
read—Discount Armageddon, the first
book in Seanan McGuire’s InCryptid series and the happiest, fluffiest novel she
had published to date. I knew going in that everything would turn out okay.
Along the way there was ballroom dancing, a found family of delightful
oddballs, redemptive romance and, best of all, a colony of Aeslin Mice
interrupting the action at the funniest moments to sing the oddest praises of
the Price family.
Reading
got easier after Discount Armageddon,
but only because I didn’t push. I read for pleasure, not to impress anybody. If
I felt like reading cozy mysteries or category romances, I did. Their formulaic
structure was more than part of their charm; it was actively healing.
By
the time Naomi Kritzer’s joyous short story, “Cat Pictures Please”,
began collecting award nominations I was more than ready to vote for it. I had
internalized the over-sized truth contained in its small word count: it’s the
little kindnesses that make us whole. Share cat pictures or dog pictures or
gifs of hamsters in hats, and you could ease someone’s (or something’s) pain
just enough to save the world.
The
idea isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds. Life is a lot like airplane turbulence.
You need to be sure you can breathe before you can take care of anyone else.
So
cut yourself some slack. Pamper yourself with ice cream, cat pictures, Aeslin
Mice or whatever soothes your soul. A little break won’t turn a mountain of problems
into a molehill, but a little kindness just might make that mountain easier to
scale.
You’re
welcome. No need to thank me. As the lady and the AI said, payment is in cat
pictures.
#
About the campaign:
#HoldOnToTheLight is a blog campaign
encompassing blog posts by fantasy and science fiction authors around
the world in an effort to raise awareness around treatment for depression,
suicide prevention, domestic violence intervention, PTSD initiatives, bullying
prevention and other mental health-related issues. We believe fandom should be
supportive, welcoming and inclusive, in the long tradition of fandom taking
care of its own. We encourage readers and fans to seek the help they or their
loved ones need without shame or embarrassment.
Please consider donating to or volunteering
for organizations dedicated to treatment and prevention such as: American
Foundation for Suicide Prevention, Hope for the Warriors (PTSD), National
Alliance on Mental Illness (NAMI), Canadian Mental Health
Association, MIND (UK),SANE (UK), BeyondBlue (Australia),
To Write Love On Her Arms (TWLOHA) and the National
Suicide Prevention Hotline.
To find out more about #HoldOnToTheLight, find a list of
participating authors and blog posts, or reach a media contact, go
to http://www.HoldOnToTheLight.com and
join us on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/WeHoldOnToTheLight
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