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It is late, and I (as mentioned before) need to go do things.
But this is a post I made, oh, 4 years and eight months ago or so.
4 years and seven months or so before that, I started using the website 750words.com. It is a nice simple site, a very clean interface. It gives you a large blank space and you fill that blankness with words. And so I have.
That post was made because I had written one million(1,000,000) words. When I wrote that post, in 2014, my life was like this:
*I was not a Scottish Country Dance teacher. I had maybe done a few of my first candidate class lessons, but only a few. My exams were over six months away. My full certificate, years.
*I was a math teacher, and I was even a High School Math Teacher, at the school I teach at now. It was a long-term substitute job.
*I was dating mek, and I was dating my sir, and I was dating Sparr. I wasn't dating Austin. I hadn't even met Austin.
*I was living in ARSES. With...lemme count back the years...I think Sparr had just moved out. My friend's rapist had just moved in. The exhausting roommate had moved in, and Lauren-wifey, but not yet Becca, or the keen Deaf teacher.
*Any recollection of the existence of Bellringing had gone away already. It'd been well more'n a year since I lived with Genni and had tea with all these people who are now friends.
*I loved writing.
I loved writing. I loved writing and it was important to me, to my sanity, to my sense-of-self, to my ability to exist in this world.
In 2016, I completed my words on 286/366 days. That was the year I got not-re-hired from the private school and started spiraling into what I can pretty clearly look back and see was A Depression. In 2017 I completed words on 83/365 days. In 2018 it was 78.
But in 2018, a full third of those days were all strung together in December in a tight little row. And that tight little row has kept going for 178 more days, and my streak is 202 consecutive days and I am _writing_ again.
My mental health is absolutely still shit. The ADHD is the worst of it of course, but there's other Bad Shit in my head that I wish would stop. But the Bad Shit is always easier to manage when I let the ink out of my veins.
It's been nine years and some change since I started using this website, this tool, this brilliant little place. It's granted me huge amounts of sanity (including the kind that only comes after you drain yourself of anxiety through dumping of information). It's been a place to process. It holds most of the history of my adult life (I was 20 when I started using it) and can be a lovely resource to consult. It's been a place to keep my fiction. It's been a place to keep my non-fiction, and more importantly, my organization. Lists, to-dos, accomplishments, ideas, schedules, calendars, take all the scattershot focus and narrow it down into one place. It's been my home, in a way almost nowhere else on the internet has lasted.
And all it's asked in exchange is two million(2,000,000) words. Good job, Sor.
~Sor
MOOP!
But this is a post I made, oh, 4 years and eight months ago or so.
4 years and seven months or so before that, I started using the website 750words.com. It is a nice simple site, a very clean interface. It gives you a large blank space and you fill that blankness with words. And so I have.
That post was made because I had written one million(1,000,000) words. When I wrote that post, in 2014, my life was like this:
*I was not a Scottish Country Dance teacher. I had maybe done a few of my first candidate class lessons, but only a few. My exams were over six months away. My full certificate, years.
*I was a math teacher, and I was even a High School Math Teacher, at the school I teach at now. It was a long-term substitute job.
*I was dating mek, and I was dating my sir, and I was dating Sparr. I wasn't dating Austin. I hadn't even met Austin.
*I was living in ARSES. With...lemme count back the years...I think Sparr had just moved out. My friend's rapist had just moved in. The exhausting roommate had moved in, and Lauren-wifey, but not yet Becca, or the keen Deaf teacher.
*Any recollection of the existence of Bellringing had gone away already. It'd been well more'n a year since I lived with Genni and had tea with all these people who are now friends.
*I loved writing.
I loved writing. I loved writing and it was important to me, to my sanity, to my sense-of-self, to my ability to exist in this world.
In 2016, I completed my words on 286/366 days. That was the year I got not-re-hired from the private school and started spiraling into what I can pretty clearly look back and see was A Depression. In 2017 I completed words on 83/365 days. In 2018 it was 78.
But in 2018, a full third of those days were all strung together in December in a tight little row. And that tight little row has kept going for 178 more days, and my streak is 202 consecutive days and I am _writing_ again.
My mental health is absolutely still shit. The ADHD is the worst of it of course, but there's other Bad Shit in my head that I wish would stop. But the Bad Shit is always easier to manage when I let the ink out of my veins.
It's been nine years and some change since I started using this website, this tool, this brilliant little place. It's granted me huge amounts of sanity (including the kind that only comes after you drain yourself of anxiety through dumping of information). It's been a place to process. It holds most of the history of my adult life (I was 20 when I started using it) and can be a lovely resource to consult. It's been a place to keep my fiction. It's been a place to keep my non-fiction, and more importantly, my organization. Lists, to-dos, accomplishments, ideas, schedules, calendars, take all the scattershot focus and narrow it down into one place. It's been my home, in a way almost nowhere else on the internet has lasted.
And all it's asked in exchange is two million(2,000,000) words. Good job, Sor.
~Sor
MOOP!