I guess the subject line says it all but there’s a little more to it than that.
My mom mentioned trying to change my sleep schedule because she thought it might make me less depressed. It’s not working, presumably because she only saw the link between my sleep disorder and depression and assumed correlation = causation.
So now I’m going to bed much earlier but I still can’t wake up to an alarm. Instead I just end up sleeping for 15 hours. I feel vaguely disappointed because I know Amy was able to do it but I can’t seem to do the same.
Sleeping for 15 hours has a way of making you feel incredibly lazy, I might add. I’ve still met my article deadlines and have made major progress on cleaning my bedroom, bathroom, and closet. But it still doesn’t feel like enough.
I’ve got a hater now on my Medium articles, which I guess is a sign of my success (however small it may be.) But I have to admit that I don’t really like seeing new notifications and logging in, only to find out that it’s her again.
She doesn’t know me. She’s quite a bit older than me. And she’s shitting all over my perspectives, even on my older articles. I really don’t care if you don’t think women need feminism, if my gifted education was really all that good because supposedly all gifted people are equally talented at math (not true BTW) or even that your daughter has even fewer hours awake each day than I do.
I don’t care and I don’t have to prove anything to you or anyone else.
That said, though, my creative writing professor who was such a bully to me that I quit the program has been showing up in my “friends you might know” section on FB. I’m not going to add him but I am considering writing him a letter to his university email (and maybe CC’ing the department head) to tell him how negatively his class impacted me.
It wasn’t “constructive criticism”—I could have handled that. Instead it discouraged me from writing fiction at all for many years. I don’t forgive him for that.