During a few wakeful hours last night, I was thinking about this blog and its purpose. While obviously I use it to tease my upcoming novels (which I again thank you for continuing to read and enjoy along beside me), I do want it to have a deeper meaning. As I’ve stated before, I want this blog to be a kind of expose of life with a mental illness. I want to keep it real and sometimes even raw.
What I don’t want to do is whine. I don’t want to come across as a constant complainer, because that’s not who I am.
If I re-titled this blog it would be “Behind the silence.”
In my daily life, as I wine and dine this magnificent world, my mental illness is almost always silent. No one knows it exists except a very precious few. You might know me, might have known me for years, and you’d never be able to guess that I’m continuously waging little wars inside of my mind. I’d come across as quiet, nice, maybe a little nervous but nothing out of the ordinary.
That is how I live with my mental illness outside of this blog. It may be cowardice, I don’t know. I think it’s more about me not wanting to complain, to whine, to fuss about the stupidest little things. I don’t want to be a bother, a burden to anyone.
I break it here and, oftentimes, only here. I thank you for listening and for trying to understand. I thank you for allowing me to rant and rave and curse the fates here. This is the voice behind my silence. Thank you for accepting it.
Merry Christmas everyone!
Chapter Two: Snoring Dragons on Blistering Cold Days
“For his part, Frye didn’t seem surprised by the question. In fact, he cozied up to it right away. Leaning forward over his knees, Frye steepled his hands together and smiled. “I prefer something warm and thick, something you can feel in your throat as it goes down.”” (page 34)
Lest I forget my reindeer game of the day…
I imagine Prancer to be…
A man high in the Viennese society, a man rich in both ideals and money. A loyal Austrian who would give his life for the freedom of his country from the German regime, he realizes that he is more valuable to the resistance alive rather than dead. His connections with Vienna’s aristrocracy, his business dealings with the Nazi occupiers affords him opportunities that few men have in the war to sabotage the Germans from the top down. The risks he takes are great, his future a self-confessed bleak one… but when he finds a man with a heart as true as his own, has Prancer found his true reason to live or simply a wolf in sheep’s clothing?