Character Development
It's Monday, and it's raining. The house AC is once again on the fritz, and I am over it. It's hot! The car will be taken back to the shop for the sixth time (once I arrange for it to be towed), and I am considering filing yet another complaint with the Attorney General. While driving over the weekend, a loud pop, snap, and thud is coming from the rear wheels, or, my guess, the suspension is shot. I am pissed beyond anything in my control. I want resolve and I want it now! My patience has run thin, and holding my composure may get ugly.
I have been on a staycation since Thurs and I return to the gig tomorrow. I laugh with heartfelt sincerity. There was a glitch in the scheduling. A system fail. My request was approved weeks ago, but somehow my name was put in last night's roster. Simultaneously, my GM, Assistant Manager, and my co-worker texted, WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU OK? WHY AREN'T YOU HERE? They all had me worried... I texted back each with the same reply: I am off. I requested vacation days. I said to my GM that it is not typical for me to be a no-show. She responded, "We know that's why we were all worried." #Godbless Later in the evening, I texted my reg manager, which I do often to check in with her... we both laughed about the glitch. It's all good! I will return tomorrow... hell on wheels if this car situation doesn't get attention today!
I have checked stats on my blog and royalties due on my book sales. The term "Published Author" really hasn't sunk in. I need to create content and videos. Cat has my tongue, and anxiety has a hold on my throat. In the meantime, I am digging into the development of storyline and character reference for SEASIDE SHORE. It will be a softer read than WHEN HE HAD HER.
A conversation I was having with my son-in-law over the weekend about my book, I briefly mentioned all of the classes I took in college with the intention of that time, that possibly, maybe, and who knew what I was going to use any of it for; I knew I wanted to be a writer for "something" I knew I wanted to do graphic design for some other entity. At the time, studying Creative Suite 4, I could put that knowledge in my back pocket and somewhere down the line bring it out if I needed. Well, formatting the book and cover it was needed. Hindsight is 20 20 and I am glad I had all of it tucked away neatly. Putting SEASIDE SHORE together will be a breeze once I get the storyline and character development together.
This I will say, Jake, the character in this book is a "runner," his refusal to look at patterns in his life and the people, places, and things that have badly programmed him. Without suffrage or pain, he does not recognize who he is. The mental complexity and the dual avoidance of self, he finds him self sabotaging anything that resembles heart safety. The overdriven cortisol in his body keeps him in a constant fight-or-flight state and settling down in a homeostatic environment to him means he no longer has purpose. Therefore running becomes his safety and protection so no one really see who he is.
Let me give you a sneak:
Jake's Reflection — Alone at the Edge
It was quiet out here
But not the kind that calms a man
The waves were relentless tonight
crashing in like some primal reminder that the world moves with or without him
He stood at the shoreline
feet planted
arms crossed
But inside, he was unraveling
piece by piece
There was no one left to blame
No one else to talk over
just the sound of his own head
roaring louder than the surf
He always said he liked solitude
said it with a half-smile like it was some badge of honor
But this
This was not solitude
This was what alone really looked like
It looked like eating cold food off the hood of his truck, because the silence in the house was unbearable
It looked like scrolling through old messages just to feel something
It looked like sleeping with the TV on to drown out the sound of her absence
The sound of regret
The sound of you did it again
He’d worn victimhood like a second skin
as if pain was proof that he still felt
As if sabotaging love gave him control over something
because God knows he’d had no control as a boy
But this wasn’t control
This was decay
slow and quiet and self-inflicted
over and over again
until even he couldn’t tell if he was running or rotting
Jess had seen it
Hell, she’d named it
And that made it real
Too real
“You can’t heal in the same place that convinced you you were unworthy.”
Her voice played on repeat
like salt in the wound
a wound he stopped trying to close years ago
He clenched his fists
Watching the sea swallow the moonlight
and wondered what it would take to let the wreckage go
To stop hiding behind his own ruins
To stop needing to be broken just to feel familiar
The waves were deafening
But not louder than the war in his mind
Tonight, they only amplified it
And for the first time
He stood still long enough to hear the truth
He was the architect of his own ache
And if he ran again
He wouldn’t be escaping
He’d be choosing to stay broken
And that thought
that single, brutal truth
Finally made him feel afraid
Not of losing Jess
Not of being alone
But of waking up one day and realizing
He never even tried to become whole
*********************************************************
Now, on the other side of that, from a Life Coaching point of view:
The runner. The one who loudly proclaims they’ve escaped. The one who takes pride in distance, new scenery, and the idea of freedom. Look at me, I’ve broken away. Look at me, I’ve started over. But it’s a performance. Because no matter where they go, they never leave themselves behind. They run from what they can’t face, and always return to it because they never had the courage to actually change it. They just change the setting.
He is not healing. He is stalling. He is mentally eroding and emotionally shrinking back into the very life that diminishes him. He knows it. You can see it in his silence. You can see it in the slump of his return. He leaves only to prove to himself that he can, but he always goes back because the reality of breaking the cycle is too much for him to carry. So he chooses the pain he knows, and it continues to chip away at what’s left of his spirit.
This is not growth. This is a collapse in slow motion. This is what happens when people refuse to face the mirror. And if any part of this stings, you need to ask yourself why. If it feels personal, maybe it is. The truth is not meant to be comfortable. It’s meant to wake you up. If you’re hiding behind God to avoid responsibility, you are not spiritual. You are scared. If you are running from yourself and calling it a journey, you are not free. You are stuck.
At some point, healing requires confrontation. Escape becomes delusion. Faith becomes fiction. And no one is going to save you from yourself but you.
And there you have! Reflection...
For me let me accentuate, liking adventure, growth, and seeking newness doesn’t make me a runner. It makes me alive.
There’s a difference between running to expand and running to escape!
Fate Turns On A Dime
Kitryn Marie
#publishedauthor #lifecoach #enrichyourlife #mirroranyone
