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Paranoia Diary: Entry VI
It's been a long time, well okay no I guess it hasn't really. Considering someone with paranoia can never really stop being paranoid but it just gotten worse lately. Really worse-- My paranoia is always constant now, the panic attacks seem to be always on the brink of erupting in my chest. I feel like my family hates me sometimes because of my writer's block, because of my depression-- Because of how paranoid I am to fail at writing this story.
Can they really blame me?
The story started out as Her idea, my ex-girlfriend's idea while we were dating. She wanted to take a break from writing fantasy and science fiction stories, wanted to write a realistic fiction similar to a few of my own stories at the time. And well I wanted to help her, just for the hell of it.
The first character I created was Kandyl (pronounced Kendall) Taylors. Her character's name was Allison Mackie. They were suppose to be best friends. The story grew from there. Allison and her brother Mitch were dealing with the sudden loss of their mother, Elizabeth whom had ditched them a few years back leaving Mitch alone with a letter saying that she had been cheating on their father. We decided then to make it a four person perspective narrative story. We would each have two narrators, mine were Kandyl and her best friend, Colby. Her's were Allison and Mitch, brother and sister.
Half way through writing the story, Colby's story ended and I couldn't continue with the narration. Because of a strange need to make one of MY characters an antagonist she ended sparking the life of one of my strongest characters ever.
His name is Sean Avery, and instead of becoming an antagonist, he became an anti-hero all because he ended up falling in love with her character, Allison.
It worked.
Until our personal problems starting getting to involved with the story, when roleplaying as these characters became more interesting than actually talking to her. Mostly because if she wasn't roleplaying she was demanding me to help fix her problems. Or she was making new ones up. I surprised I lasted the year and three months that I did. I pushed for the story to be finished, I pushed and I tried as hard as I could to make it work. But she just kept jumping around with characters, until the point that it became a challenge:
Who can make the most fucked up story known to mankind ever?
I can't even explain what we did to that story and to those characters. I just know that when she didn't deliver on a chapter for weeks because of her mental disorders, how ever many she decided on having that day, I got tired of the story.
And finally I just wanted to give up. And so I did, I gave up on the story and soon after that we broke up. Not because of the story but because of well-- That's not really important right now. After we broke up I tried to ask her if I could use her characters and make the story what it could've been. At first she agreed then she changed her mind, took the characters back without me having the blink an eye. I retilated in the wrong way, saying horrible things like that I was never going to use them anyway. Mostly cause I was hurt, because I had asked her nicely if I could use them figuring she wasn't going to writer the story even if it had started off as her story, I'm the one that became obsessed with it.
Every "Mad Girl" poem is written in the voice of Kandyl's mother, in the story, a bestselling author named Kourtney Taylors.
It took years for me to look at that story, to think of those characters. But finally I did, because I was watching an anime with my mom called Fruits Basket. And just the way that the main character, Tohru Honda asks for her dead mother's advice inside of her head alot of the time. And it just sparked something in me about Kandyl. Instead of making her mother dead however like she had been in the first book, I gave her mother a voice. And I placed her mother inside of a coma after a car accident that Kandyl blamed herself for. The accident itself being a collusion with another vehicle, specifically a red van drove by an eighteen year old guy named Sean Avery.
See what I did there?
The rest of the first book fell into place soon after that. Kandyl and Sean would be each other's love interest. And the story would be made into what it should've been all along. But the original story had alot of damage done to it, and I had to clean up my side of it too. I had made alot of fucked up characters myself, I quickly disposed of any serial killers and drug dealers I may have created during that time I had been writing the story with Her. And began fitting the characters together, including the original narrator before Sean. Colby, instead of Colby simply being Kandyl's childhood friend that stopped talking to her once they got to high school, I made it more deeper. Colby's story still ends but he does not stop being apart of the story.
My ex-girlfriend had insisted that maybe he just moves and that's why he disappears from the story. But that didn't work, the families friendship did not begin and end with Kandyl and Colby. Their fathers were also best friends, along with their grandparents. And so I had to fix it big time, so how do you end a person's story but keep him apart of the story.
You take in the perspective the title of the entire saga of books. Yes, it was always meant to be a saga. Just as not as long as Her and I had originally predicted.
The Secret House.
Born from a quote that we heard a movie, a quote that was originally written by Shakespeare.
"Is it sin to rush into the secret house of death."
The "secret house" is suicide. A strong theme that I wanted to heavily address in the book considering that Kandyl herself remembers her mother attempting suicide after a miscarriage when Kandyl was only ten years old. Because Sean himself attempt to kill himself in spite of depression and self-hatred.
And so Colby's story ended with a bittersweet solution. He would continue to be a very important character in the story but he would just not be present.
"Your part in the play or the play itself?"
That's what I decided for Colby. For him, his story ends, is he still a part of it? Yes. Just in a different sense. In the same sense that a comatose mother is apart of it, or a already dead twin sister is apart of it.
He affects the characters of the story.
And so I was able to write the first book, a seond one followed it and then a third. I even switched it up and changed the characters because they had a story to tell. I gave Kandyl and Sean a break and I brought in two new characters, Mason and Valeri. Side characters that we see until the third book when they take over the role as narrators.
Then the fourth book-- And well, my writer's block kicked in at the exact same time and it broke me down again and again. And it's just been so hard the past few months, and here I am now still writing about how hard it is for my family to understand what I go through when I think about hurting these characters, or messing up. The whole time the only thing that I am thinking is the negative thoughts.
"I can't fail."
"Not again."
"She can't win."
I always feel like somehow she'll know. She'll know that my story has gotten messed up again, and that means she wins. And I just can't have her win. The thought of her winning and imaginary challenge that I gave myself yet again drives me insane. I just-- I don't want to let these characters go, they're mine. This story is mine. I fixed it, I brought it back from what she made it into. What I had created out of spite and annoyance to my at the time girlfriend for not focusing on what we should've been doing. Now I question ever move I make. I think, rethink and than overthink every possible idea until I hate it. Then I try wrtiting it anyway and hate myself for trying.
I distract myself, I try taking breaks. I try to do anything and everything to make it work but it doesn't. And here I am, still trying but now-- Now it's for a differen reason. It's because I know I can do it now. But I'm still so fragile. So when my family rushes me through discussion for chapters and the characters and the overall book, it freaks me out.
I'm made of glass once again. So everyone, please hold your breath because I might break.
My paranoia has never been worse. I don't want to play video games, I don't want to watch movies, I don't want to talk about anything else. I want to tell them about my ideas. I want them to be excited for me.
But they're tired, I know they are. They've been putting up with my good, bad, ugly, okay, sorta-good, and WTF ideas for the past few months. Why should I expect them to care at this point? They say they do but they don't, they expect it not to work at this point. They expect me to give up again. To make up a new story. Because that's what I did in the past, I always gave up and stopped writing, went to a different story.
But I can't this time. There's too much emotional investment in this story, it's like a relationship that I wasn't ready for but jumped in head first anyway, and now I'm drowing and can't get out fast enough. Well it's not like I haven't done that before either. I love to hurt myself in more ways than one and that means I will push myself until I make it or break. Either I'll eventually write the story the right way and I'll love it. Or I'll have a mental breakdown and nothing will matter.
I will push myself to the point of no return. Break my bones so I can feel them healing.
So I guess I can't really expect them to be happy for me. I just have to prove them wrong, prove to them that they can't brush the story off this time. That I really have an idea this time, that I really have it. That I can write the entire thing right now if I felt like it. I just want to explain to them first, explain to them how happy and exicted I am. Which means no questions, no talking about random shit, just listen to me.
I just need them to listen because I know I can do it.
But if they don't think I can then I know I won't do it. I'll give it with a "Why bother?" and just fall into a deeper depression. I need them to help me, don't give me ideas, don't give me opinions, just listen to me. Because I want to write this story and I know I can do it this time. I finally see what I've been doing wrong, and I know how to make it right.
So please, just listen to me.
Because when they don't and they brush me aside, they make me paranoid that I'm just going to fail again.
But then again, maybe that's all they expect of me anymore.
Can they really blame me?
The story started out as Her idea, my ex-girlfriend's idea while we were dating. She wanted to take a break from writing fantasy and science fiction stories, wanted to write a realistic fiction similar to a few of my own stories at the time. And well I wanted to help her, just for the hell of it.
The first character I created was Kandyl (pronounced Kendall) Taylors. Her character's name was Allison Mackie. They were suppose to be best friends. The story grew from there. Allison and her brother Mitch were dealing with the sudden loss of their mother, Elizabeth whom had ditched them a few years back leaving Mitch alone with a letter saying that she had been cheating on their father. We decided then to make it a four person perspective narrative story. We would each have two narrators, mine were Kandyl and her best friend, Colby. Her's were Allison and Mitch, brother and sister.
Half way through writing the story, Colby's story ended and I couldn't continue with the narration. Because of a strange need to make one of MY characters an antagonist she ended sparking the life of one of my strongest characters ever.
His name is Sean Avery, and instead of becoming an antagonist, he became an anti-hero all because he ended up falling in love with her character, Allison.
It worked.
Until our personal problems starting getting to involved with the story, when roleplaying as these characters became more interesting than actually talking to her. Mostly because if she wasn't roleplaying she was demanding me to help fix her problems. Or she was making new ones up. I surprised I lasted the year and three months that I did. I pushed for the story to be finished, I pushed and I tried as hard as I could to make it work. But she just kept jumping around with characters, until the point that it became a challenge:
Who can make the most fucked up story known to mankind ever?
I can't even explain what we did to that story and to those characters. I just know that when she didn't deliver on a chapter for weeks because of her mental disorders, how ever many she decided on having that day, I got tired of the story.
And finally I just wanted to give up. And so I did, I gave up on the story and soon after that we broke up. Not because of the story but because of well-- That's not really important right now. After we broke up I tried to ask her if I could use her characters and make the story what it could've been. At first she agreed then she changed her mind, took the characters back without me having the blink an eye. I retilated in the wrong way, saying horrible things like that I was never going to use them anyway. Mostly cause I was hurt, because I had asked her nicely if I could use them figuring she wasn't going to writer the story even if it had started off as her story, I'm the one that became obsessed with it.
Every "Mad Girl" poem is written in the voice of Kandyl's mother, in the story, a bestselling author named Kourtney Taylors.
It took years for me to look at that story, to think of those characters. But finally I did, because I was watching an anime with my mom called Fruits Basket. And just the way that the main character, Tohru Honda asks for her dead mother's advice inside of her head alot of the time. And it just sparked something in me about Kandyl. Instead of making her mother dead however like she had been in the first book, I gave her mother a voice. And I placed her mother inside of a coma after a car accident that Kandyl blamed herself for. The accident itself being a collusion with another vehicle, specifically a red van drove by an eighteen year old guy named Sean Avery.
See what I did there?
The rest of the first book fell into place soon after that. Kandyl and Sean would be each other's love interest. And the story would be made into what it should've been all along. But the original story had alot of damage done to it, and I had to clean up my side of it too. I had made alot of fucked up characters myself, I quickly disposed of any serial killers and drug dealers I may have created during that time I had been writing the story with Her. And began fitting the characters together, including the original narrator before Sean. Colby, instead of Colby simply being Kandyl's childhood friend that stopped talking to her once they got to high school, I made it more deeper. Colby's story still ends but he does not stop being apart of the story.
My ex-girlfriend had insisted that maybe he just moves and that's why he disappears from the story. But that didn't work, the families friendship did not begin and end with Kandyl and Colby. Their fathers were also best friends, along with their grandparents. And so I had to fix it big time, so how do you end a person's story but keep him apart of the story.
You take in the perspective the title of the entire saga of books. Yes, it was always meant to be a saga. Just as not as long as Her and I had originally predicted.
The Secret House.
Born from a quote that we heard a movie, a quote that was originally written by Shakespeare.
"Is it sin to rush into the secret house of death."
The "secret house" is suicide. A strong theme that I wanted to heavily address in the book considering that Kandyl herself remembers her mother attempting suicide after a miscarriage when Kandyl was only ten years old. Because Sean himself attempt to kill himself in spite of depression and self-hatred.
And so Colby's story ended with a bittersweet solution. He would continue to be a very important character in the story but he would just not be present.
"Your part in the play or the play itself?"
That's what I decided for Colby. For him, his story ends, is he still a part of it? Yes. Just in a different sense. In the same sense that a comatose mother is apart of it, or a already dead twin sister is apart of it.
He affects the characters of the story.
And so I was able to write the first book, a seond one followed it and then a third. I even switched it up and changed the characters because they had a story to tell. I gave Kandyl and Sean a break and I brought in two new characters, Mason and Valeri. Side characters that we see until the third book when they take over the role as narrators.
Then the fourth book-- And well, my writer's block kicked in at the exact same time and it broke me down again and again. And it's just been so hard the past few months, and here I am now still writing about how hard it is for my family to understand what I go through when I think about hurting these characters, or messing up. The whole time the only thing that I am thinking is the negative thoughts.
"I can't fail."
"Not again."
"She can't win."
I always feel like somehow she'll know. She'll know that my story has gotten messed up again, and that means she wins. And I just can't have her win. The thought of her winning and imaginary challenge that I gave myself yet again drives me insane. I just-- I don't want to let these characters go, they're mine. This story is mine. I fixed it, I brought it back from what she made it into. What I had created out of spite and annoyance to my at the time girlfriend for not focusing on what we should've been doing. Now I question ever move I make. I think, rethink and than overthink every possible idea until I hate it. Then I try wrtiting it anyway and hate myself for trying.
I distract myself, I try taking breaks. I try to do anything and everything to make it work but it doesn't. And here I am, still trying but now-- Now it's for a differen reason. It's because I know I can do it now. But I'm still so fragile. So when my family rushes me through discussion for chapters and the characters and the overall book, it freaks me out.
I'm made of glass once again. So everyone, please hold your breath because I might break.
My paranoia has never been worse. I don't want to play video games, I don't want to watch movies, I don't want to talk about anything else. I want to tell them about my ideas. I want them to be excited for me.
But they're tired, I know they are. They've been putting up with my good, bad, ugly, okay, sorta-good, and WTF ideas for the past few months. Why should I expect them to care at this point? They say they do but they don't, they expect it not to work at this point. They expect me to give up again. To make up a new story. Because that's what I did in the past, I always gave up and stopped writing, went to a different story.
But I can't this time. There's too much emotional investment in this story, it's like a relationship that I wasn't ready for but jumped in head first anyway, and now I'm drowing and can't get out fast enough. Well it's not like I haven't done that before either. I love to hurt myself in more ways than one and that means I will push myself until I make it or break. Either I'll eventually write the story the right way and I'll love it. Or I'll have a mental breakdown and nothing will matter.
I will push myself to the point of no return. Break my bones so I can feel them healing.
So I guess I can't really expect them to be happy for me. I just have to prove them wrong, prove to them that they can't brush the story off this time. That I really have an idea this time, that I really have it. That I can write the entire thing right now if I felt like it. I just want to explain to them first, explain to them how happy and exicted I am. Which means no questions, no talking about random shit, just listen to me.
I just need them to listen because I know I can do it.
But if they don't think I can then I know I won't do it. I'll give it with a "Why bother?" and just fall into a deeper depression. I need them to help me, don't give me ideas, don't give me opinions, just listen to me. Because I want to write this story and I know I can do it this time. I finally see what I've been doing wrong, and I know how to make it right.
So please, just listen to me.
Because when they don't and they brush me aside, they make me paranoid that I'm just going to fail again.
But then again, maybe that's all they expect of me anymore.
Published 31st May 2014
| Edited 15th Sep 2017
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