It's my dream to get us all at one huge table and have a huge feast with lots of food and drink and laughter, and who knows, maybe one day I'll be able to swing it. Because you're my family, and Thanksgiving is about giving and loving and bonding, and that's what families are about, and I have finally found mine.
YOU.
Read MoreJust spent close to an hour searching online for anything about my sister and found two accounts of her, one on Instagram and it's private, and one on Twitter and there is only one post and it says, "New life" in Russian and with a smiley and it's posted later same year when I came out publicly about our father abusing me and my sister telling me I'm crazy and ending all ties with me online and deleting all her accounts. I'm sure she blocked me everywhere she could as I can't find her on Facebook or anywhere else, and it's no use asking my step-mom how I can find her because she tells me she doesn't want to talk to me and so I should leave her alone, and so I do, but damn, for some reason it's really hard. I called my step-mom yesterday to wish her happy birthday and found out that my sister is drawing comics and selling them, and I got so excited and then I got so depressed and I'm still wallowing in it today. I wish I could see what she is making. I wish I could tell her she is awesome. I wish I could share it with you all. I wish I could read her comics. I wish I wish I wish.
Read MorePhoto by Royce Daniel
Photo by Royce Daniel
"Am I thin enough? Am I thin enough?" This question has been driving me nuts since I hit puberty, and this is the picture of my belly above. This is my belly after having two kids. This is my belly at being 40. That's thin enough, right? Nope. Apparently not. I'm still under control of the messages that have been drilled into my head.
The message I heard from my mother was about the value of being pretty, and by being pretty she meant thin. She wanted me to become a model, and models are scary thin, but it didn't matter what you did to your body. The important part was to make money being thin and pretty, either by working as a waking clothes hanger or by marrying a wealthy man who, naturally, wouldn't marry you if you were fat.
Read MoreI always carry this inside me, somewhere in a deep dark corner, but once in a while it decides to come up and make me scrunch up my face and sit and cry like a baby.
I'm not making enough money with my writing to be able to pay all those who help me make my books happen.
Right now I have to wait for Siren Suicides (Second Edition) to be reformatted after receiving the printed proof and discovering that the text was a little too wide, and Stuart is busy with a project that he's doing for a paying client, and I JUST CRIED MY EYES OUT because I can't adequately pay for the amazing work that he is doing for me and I have to wait when he has free time.
There is more.
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