Photo is by Ahmed Badawy on Unsplash
After being hacked a few weeks ago because of responding to an organization’s request for a job interview after I applied, I have finally decided I am done. Done trying to find a part-time, remote, flexible job that barely makes any money but that will make me feel useful. And thankfully, my boyfriend is on board and is supportive and said in exasperation, “Why don’t you just focus on your writing? Like make it into a job?” I laughed a little. Knowing it would make life much easier with having a second income, even if it’s wimpy, I said, “You know, EVEN if I somehow get published, it is going to be a looooong time before I actually make any money.” He shrugged his shoulders and said, “But it will make you happy.” I tear up just writing this.
So, despite the back procedures and surgery and pain and hacking nightmare and my beloved grandfather who is dying this summer…I have still managed to write. I have a little ritual in the morning, where I sit at my desk, make sure I have coffee in my special mug that a friend gave me, light a candle, close my eyes and do a breathing exercise while reminding myself I am a good writer and will become a better writer every day. Or I tell myself that my words can make a difference. And then I start writing. Here’s a picture of my set-up.
The candle says, “And one day the girl with the books became the woman writing them,” which I bought from Etsy, and I found the raven at a local home goods store, which I obviously named Poe. He stands solidly as my inspiration.
Anyway. First thing in the morning, I’ve been writing a poem, usually from one of Poemancer’s or Writer's.com prompts. And then I move on to my fantasy novel, which I’m about a third of the way through my first draft. I try to leave one day a week free for Substack, writing notes and posts. Sometimes I just can’t pull myself away from my book, though.
This morning, I was writing this in response to a poetry prompt and thought I’d share it in hopes it will encourage you too.
"VICTIMS"
It’s taken a long time
And a long way, but
I’ve decided NOT to die
NOT to give in
NOT to be a victim.
Oh, trust me, I’ve been a victim,
over and over from evil men,
self-engrossed husbands, abusive
fiancées, egotistical doctors,
religious fanatics, etc.
I’ve been a victim to my own
Body working against me,
My own brain straining
Over a perfect aggregate
Of genetics, abandonment,
Low self-image, death, suicide,
Rape, constant pain, and
Progressive disability.
Being a victim, being a flagon
Of collected trauma and PTSD
seems hopeless. Meds
and therapy and shrinks and
TMS and ketamine are thrown
At me like rounds of
Ammunition in an M2 carbine.
Sometimes one of them hits
the target. Sometimes none.
Then thoughts of death creep
In, not because I want to die,
But because I don’t know
If my mind and heart and body
Can take the unbearable pain anymore.
When I no longer feel like I
Can control the awful things
That surge towards me like a
Magnet, when all I do fails to make
Me better, when I truly feel hopeless
And helpless, I swallow my defeat
And simply give in to the fear
And the terror that clogs
and chokes me without mercy.
I give into the darkness that
Consumes me until nothing else
Is visible.
Until I hear a voice one day say,
“You may have no control over
your circumstances. Hell, you
may feel like you have no control
at all. But I promise you’re wrong.”
“What? What do you mean?”
I ask in return.
“You can choose not to be a victim.”
“But I am a victim.”
“Yes, but you can choose not to
Be ruled by your victimhood.
Suffering is optional.”
I scoff, laugh outright.
Even get angry for a moment.
I ponder long and hard.
I make a list of all the things I
Can still control.
I can choose what I eat,
who I visit with,
what I write about.
I can choose what I’m wearing,
which book to read,
Where to take a walk,
Whether to rescue a
frog or a gecko from
the maws of my cat.
I can choose to be kind
to the old man fumbling
with his keys, to listen
to the person telling me
their pain, to hug my loved
ones for not giving up on me.
Maybe these are tiny,
insignificant choices,
But they’re mine.
The voice continues.
“Victimhood is a mindset. We’re
Not debating on whether you’ve
Dealt with enough shit to qualify
As a victim. Your story and many
Others’ prove you are a victim
Many times over. But AFTER
The traumatic incident, AFTER
The possible life-and-death
Moments, AFTER the chaos that
Rips you in two, how do you
Perceive yourself and the
World around you?”
I scratch my head. Feel like
Fireworks are popping off in
My brain that already doesn’t
Work well these days. “Ummm,”
I respond nonbrilliantly.
“If you have a victim mindset,
You will be uncommitted to
Change, passive to your own healing.
You will fall into the old game
Of blame and have the thoughts
“I deserve/I don’t deserve”
Marching as an unhelpful mantra.
This is the easiest mindset to
Fall under, and that’s why most
Of us do it. But this mindset
makes you miserable. It ruins
your future, your potential.”
I recognize this in myself and
Recoil. “So, instead I should…?”
“No shoulds. No tries. Tell
yourself every day that you WILL
Work on having a champion
Mindset. One that is active, that
Takes ownership and responsibility.
One that recognizes living
In paradox is the only way you can
Live. One that chooses to live
With intention, making choices that
Serve you. You have to want to
Get out of your victim story.”
Things seem to fall into place.
Understanding dawns.
“But…but I don’t think I can
Get over this. I think I am too
Broken to be repaired or even
haphazardly stitched back together
in some semblance of me.”
The voice says, “Instead of
I can’t get over this, reality tells us
I can’t get over this in the timeframe
That I want. Changing your mindset
Is not instantaneous. It’s a process.
A journey. It’s becoming less
Attached to your thoughts, not letting
Pain control your perception, and
Giving healing time. It’s working
Every day towards these things
With intention and self-compassion.
You will fall back some days and
wallow in your victimhood.
Because you are human.
But at the end of the day,
no matter what anyone does to you,
no matter what happens to you,
you can choose life over death,
action over helplessness,
Survival over victimhood.
“You, my dear, are a warrior. A survivor.
No one can take that from you.”
And the voice is right.