Writing is something that people do for many reasons, for me it’s simply one of my passions. I started to create my own creative stories while I was still a child. These stories often held onto me and pulled me into the creation process with an intensity I’d not experienced prior. The enjoyable expression and creation process dragged me along until I finished my first of many short stories. What’s terrible is that it wasn’t enough. I had to keep writing and I wanted to be writing about anything and everything. I did for all of my formative years and into young adulthood.
Unfortunately for me, I had a long hiatus from writing when I first got married. The ex husband had it in his head that I should only aspire to ‘tangible’ things. School was acceptable until we couldn’t afford it for us both. Work was okay, as long as I punched a clock at some store or call center, or it was acceptable if I dropped all of my clothing on display for other men. Now, to put that last part in proper context, I met the man right after I had been raped. Although he made me feel safe, for a while, he did nothing to help me sort through the insanity of emotions ebbing and flowing through me at any point. In the eyes of the local crisis counselor, I was fine because I didn’t blame the world for the faults of one person. The dancing, which is typical of many rape victims, as I learned by doing so, was in many respects like a therapy for me. This doesn’t mean this was the best choice I could have made under the circumstances. Once I got my head straight enough to focus on my marriage, that’s what I wanted to do. He wanted the money I made by being on display for other men and pushed me to re-enter a business I no longer wanted, needed or felt was healthy for our marriage. In the end, this became an issue that finally quieted and is now a fantastic reflection point.
Anyway, moving on… That was a lifetime ago. I find it’s incredible and wonderful fodder for books, articles and information yet to come. When I had my first child, he struggled for 9 months in the hospital before he came home to me. I had to stop working outside of the home because he was home on oxygen and a feeding tube. Yes, they sent nurses home with us for the first three months, but knowing I had HELLP syndrome, and had become pregnant with my second, the nurses were still called away. I managed the home, the children and my health on my own. Yes, the ex paid the bills but that really was it. He didn’t even comprehend the monitors involved with our prince, let alone stick around the house long enough to find out. That’s when I decided that I needed to be writing again and I started to seek out jobs doing this.
At the time, it seemed the easiest was to create online web content that would draw people into the function of the site. Sounds wonderful, but the work was mediocre at best. Among my first jobs included 500 words for a dollar and an expectation of 5 to 10 a day at that rate. Somehow, I learned to do this with two children, one still on oxygen at night and the other typically in my arms because the baby had to be quiet for the house to sleep. I took the jobs and plugged along, and started to place ads. As I learned the trade and the skills needed to market myself, my clients and rate of pay increased. For a while, I had more than enough work to contract out to others. The team that started to work with me was incredible and I unintentionally became a manager. This unacceptable course of action, in the eyes of the ex, made things very hard for me and ultimately for my kids. The summer I was doing best and nearly matched his income, he took a baseball bat to the house, and computer because I had asked him to help our eldest get to sleep. My fault, of course, I should have known that he’d not had enough sleep to be a dad that day… silly me. Well, in his mind anyway. Both of my kids spent the evening screaming until I was able to calm them. That night and I knew that this wasn’t going to last. He diligently found ways to make my work hard if not impossible on me and I had to rebuild my reputation. With time, it is possible. I trudged through my days trying to find time to write and time to create new content and places to sell that content.
Then the ex started to get promoted at his job so naturally, the moving forced my business to suffer and rebuilding my business began again. I was incredibly happy for him and willingly followed him anywhere, but I knew I was sticking with writing because writing was what I know and knew I could do well. I had learned from the brief kiss of success that this is where I belong. My children beside me and my computer in front of me, I found a way to keep bringing in some kind of income, even as we moved repeatedly. Through the process, he often worked or went out on his own, leaving me with the children, my business and the home.
Then I had the straw the broke the camel’s back and threw me into a tail spin unlike he’d ever caused before. Had this one event never happened, I would have remained, regardless of my own personal discomfort. My son had been showing signs of an autism spectrum disorder called asbergers. I researched it relentlessly. I should have been writing on what I learned but was so focused on helping my son, obviously that wasn’t my priority. The ex couldn’t believe his ‘now healthy’ son had this disorder. His mind of autism was strictly that of a classic autistic kid. This being the child who rocks themselves randomly or persistently. The adorable kid who couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to anyone ever. The one most people hear about but avoid getting to know because they are not ‘normal’ enough. That’s not my son. Asbergers is a disorder where the child can communicate. They are very verbal about things they enjoy and are focused on. These children, do, however have significant difficulties with social settings. They are uncomfortable having to confront daily situations that most would embrace with ease. In most cases, my son included, they have multiple issues that need addressed. For my son, he has a sensory disorder that is directly related to sounds. A new sound that is loud instantly puts him into a state of fear and he clings to me intently, even at seven years old. He also has severe ADHD, for this we are treating him with medicine. I am striving not to make that a lifelong answer. It is possible for children like my son to live normal, full lives, but it takes giving them resources and support until they have the skills to do so. As you can see, this clearly requires a different approach from what other children may experience. My ex didn’t comprehend this and as such, his deemed him an incorrigible child and took to severely disciplining him with every offense. The last time was when he made son strip down to his underwear and beat him with a belt until his leg bled. Obviously, I left that week. My son needed our help, not beaten into submission or having his spirit broken in order to control him.
Needless to say, I write because I have amazing children. I write because writing is as much my passion as my children. Today, I focus on teaching others, learning more about the skills needed and expressing the information in a way that will support and encourage. I also still write freelance, build websites
and promote clients. I am also striving to complete a series of science fiction novels, a book about healthy weight gain and I’m working with Ethics Trading on the production of the With Love charity series. I encourage writers, support my children’s strengths and hope to one day see the business I’m building now, become the stability of our future.
So that’s why I write … what’s your story?
