The Return To Innocence

I think my "give a fuck" just broke. It's bad enough that I'm in a major depressive episode and already filling up with self-loathing about everything I do and am. It's worse when I forget myself and defend my medication choices to a douchebag who is yelling at me with "All Big Pharma Is Always Evil Forever. You need to stop taking all your poison drugs and just eat these specific plants and herbal formulas, since they will cure your pain and your seizures and your depression and they will even heal your brain damage so you won't have cerebral palsy anymore."
I admit, I flew off the handle just a bit. You know, "Listen, moron, I did the purely holistic thing for twenty-something years, and then I was prescribed a seizure drug and a painkiller drug and a muscle relaxant which completely changed my life in many ways, because I had never known what it was like to have loose, relaxed muscles that didn't clench, spasm, feel paralyzed, or feel like burning. I mean, holy shit, people actually live like this normally? Is this normal? I should have done this sooner! Why hadn't I done this sooner?" And how I looked back on my other life and realized how stupid I was: because even if Big Pharma Is Truly Evil, sometimes they get it right. Sometimes just one drug, or three, can change the life of just one person in unimaginable ways.
And then I explained how I still use supplements and herbs and plants and holistics, and I carefully balance everything, and how I met with half a dozen different doctors who all decided I did not have an addictive personality and that it would be perfectly safe for me to take the wonderful drugs every day. And how strangers on the internet tried to call me junkie and addict without knowing a single fucking iota of a thing about me.
And I explained that because I was in chronic pain, constant agony, and major suffering that was not going to stop on its own, it was safe and fine for me to continue taking the drugs, and fuck everyone who tells me otherwise. And then I explained how sometimes I am in far less pain than normal and when I took one of those drugs, nothing happened. At all. So I was not becoming addicted, because I felt nothing if the pain was not great enough to require drugs.
And then I said a few more angry things about judging strangers because you are not actually concerned about them, you just want to project your personal bullshit onto someone who is doing something that perhaps you or a loved one used to do and it led to addiction and it was horrid for you, and perhaps you have made it your superhero mission to save everyone you encounter from the awful evil Big Pharma that destroyed your life, and perhaps it's easy to yell at people over the internet because you don't need to see their faces or show your face and you feel you have perfect control because the poor stranger is obviously spiraling downward into a terrible tragedy of dependency that only you can save them from.
And by "you" I mean "stranger asshole who decided she knew exactly who I was, what was wrong with me, what I needed, what I didn't need - because obviously those Big Pharma drugs were killing me rather than saving my life in multiple ways."
So, I sincerely apologize if anyone reading this feels slapped, because that is not what I'm trying to do. Normally, when someone gives me the "Drugs bad, herbs good" speech, I just smile and say, "Balance and harmony in all things. Every person is different with different responses to different treatments. Some patients cannot take supplements, and some patients need drugs to continue living a fairly easy life. I am very lucky that I can easily take pharmaceutical drugs and natural supplements in balance. Maybe some day, I will find a plant or vitamin that can legally replace all my prescription drugs forever. I doubt that, because I need certain drugs to keep certain illnesses in check, but if I can reduce the prescriptions and have a supplement as my main treatment, that would be wonderful. Until then, nobody needs to tell me what I should and should not do with my medical health treatments." And that is the most polite thing I can say.

Since my novel is saved to my Gmail account, I've been able to view it in HTML, which has been useful in showing me that it sucks. Seriously, it sucks. I think I shall be doing a huge amount of editing soon. It was begun by an innocent 20-year-old, so now I think it needs to be completely revised by a slightly more mature 27-year-old.
I do like the last few chapters. They were written within the past several months.
I really shouldn't say this. People have told me how good it is. But we alone are our harshest critics. I can't hope to be as good as, say, Neil Gaiman, or Francesca Lia Block, because I am not Neil Gaiman, or Francesca Lia Block, nor will I ever be. I can hope to be as good as me. And if that means revising and editing, so be it.
My husband wants his birthday present from me to be a printed copy of every chapter I have so far, spiral bound, so he can finally read it. It makes me cringe. He reads George R.R. Martin and Terry Goodkind, for gods' sakes. They're epic. I'm a child.

These are not-good thoughts. Oh, I hate when fluctuating hormones influence thoughts. Bad, very bad.

But, on that note, because I am being so fucking contrary, here's a slice of the completely revised first chapter, just to prove myself wrong. But I bet it's still not as good as it could be. More revising to come.

( The Beginning... )