In February of 2016 I released my first chapbook and quickly realized that thanks to online do it yourself programs, self publishing is easy! So, naturally I started to plan and compile my next project and it’s FINALLY here.
Medicate. is dear to my heart just as Trigger was. It is raw and emotional and draws from my own personal experiences and perceptions. I truly believe that most of us on this Earth suffer from mental health issues at one time or another, we are just resourceful creatures and have found ways to self medicate. This book explores just a few of those ways; touching on substance abuse, over eating, losing yourself in others, the Internet, religion (and so much more!) in a way I hope is relatable and sheds light on a growing issue across the world. Whether you laugh a bit or cry I do hope the book provokes you to some genuine emotion.
I am offering the PDF version of the book on sale for $7.99 to my mailing list subscribers. The normal price of $10 will resume after the weekend is over. I always struggle with the pricing, I wish I could give them away for free but I invest so much time and money into each of these projects I can’t afford to be a philanthropist just yet!
In addition to the soft rollout of the book, I am sharing with you the link to the Whiskey Girl store. As of now there are Medicate. mugs available for purchase and I will soon be adding t shirts and other fun things I hope entice you to order.
Thank you again for your support. Purchase, enjoy and let me know what you think.
~good vibes always~
I have been thinking a lot about heaven and hell lately—what it means to me and where I think I’m going to go. I heard a devout Christian say that God cares more about our righteousness than our happiness and the sentiment sent a chill down my spine.
This has been the happiest year of my life—maybe. I laugh and share my secrets with the “sinners”. We all drink too much, smoke a ton and curse. A few of us lay with the same sex at night or alternate between the two. I myself find the most peace and comfort in the arms of a man who is not my husband. He will never be and somewhere deep inside I am ok with that as long as I have him, because I feel that might be all that really matters—us having each other, I mean. But somewhere deeper than that I worry that clinging to each other means nothing can come into us, even God. Though I feel Him, when we intertwine and it makes me believe that I don’t have to choose between the two. He is with us.
I sometimes stare at his face at night and wonder if we are a blessing from God or a curse from Satan. I can’t wrap my brain around why it feels magic. It feels like comfort from God himself, all that is right and good and holy and as much as I usually feel so disconnected it finally feels like belonging! When I fill up with his love it feels like home and comfort food, the beginning of the end of the world—we know it won’t last but my god, it will be glorious for a time…and I wonder when our time will run out and why this gift has to spoil. Just as wonder if God is on the end of his path. Is it just up to me to trust my instincts and our intimacy? Shall I grip his hand without ever looking back? Allow myself to be led into a righteousness that Christians don’t believe in because a man who is not your husband is just that. And I—WE—are just adulterous sinners in the eyes of the Lord, and not two people who feel the spirit in our union and allow that to be enough. Trusting in us and believing in Him became mutually exclusive at some point and my greedy heart desires both…
I sent a group text the other day to my family telling them the great news that FINALLY I was a published author. I live in reality, I know that I am self-published and it’s not exactly the same hoopla that comes with picking up an agent and being funded by a large publishing company, but still, yay me! My siblings were congratulatory, my parents remained silent. It was the first stone—felt like I swallowed it and could feel it travel down my esophagus and weigh down on my belly.
I saw them later that day, and I know my mother is the type to have cupcakes, say congratulations and ask questions—but when I got to their house it was business as usual. My parents are not villains. I had to pull my eldest daughter out of her former school, I can’t afford before and after care by myself so she now lives with them during the weekdays attending their neighborhood school as well as my four-year old daughter. My parents are not villains. They give me groceries when I am poor and encourage me to go to mental health counseling and provide me with plenty of scripture as advice.
My parents are not villains—they just don’t like the person that I have become. This divorced, formerly broken, independent and kind of whacky woman is not anyone they want to hug or congratulate or give a slap on the back. She is a little broken and way too open. She is not Christian enough; and I know that it bothers them that they can’t quite tell whether I’m going to heaven or hell. Well I don’t really know either, and I had to come to a place and take a moment to stop fretting about it. I’ve had to force myself to slow down and learn to be happy and accepting and to take life one day at a time. And as for this day, I am proud of myself because I never thought I would be here. If you had asked me where I would be at this time 5 years ago I would have said, “Lying in the fetal position on the floor of a psych ward contemplating where my life went so wrong.” I have exceeded my own expectations and I am going to bask in the glory of this moment even if it kills me to smile and I have to do it through faltering lips.
In spite of the men that didn’t value me enough to treat me with respect and dignity…
In spite of what I used to lay awake at night telling myself…
In spite of how the “Christians” may view me and my life choices…
In spite of rejection from the people I desire support from the most…
I am here. And I will continue to shut out the voices of the doubters and unbelievers in order to do the thing that makes me happy. I just want to write.
Click here, to find out more and/or purchase my new chapbook Trigger: A Downward Spiral.