Other “Read in 2016” Top Favs:
HOLIDAY NOVELLA
by Sarah Robinson
(Only $1.99 & #Free on KU)
PUBLISHED IN 2016 BY SARAH ROBINSON
by Sarah Robinson
(new release!)
by Sarah Robinson
(standalone)
I want to start this post by saying…I’m sorry. You deserve better from me, as my readers and my friends and my family. I also want to say that this post is going to be long, maybe sad, and there isn’t an “I’ll try harder” or “I’ll do better” at the end.
There’s just me saying “this is all I’ve got” and “I have no answers, but I’ll find them.”
[warning for those with triggers, this post gets real]
Every December since 2010, I’ve spiraled. Hard. Anxiety hits me like a truck, and depression swoops in to feast on what’s left. I told you all this in my blog post on my website in November about my long struggle with depression. What I didn’t tell you was why or…why now.
I didn’t tell you that at a New Year’s Eve party, only 3 hours into 2010, I was raped and assaulted by a man I trusted. A man I’d considered a best friend. A man I’d considered safe.
For a long list of reasons I may or may not talk about one day, I dealt with this alone. I turned the police officers away in the emergency room when I was being stitched up, and I kept it to myself. I put that night away in a little box and never touched it again.
I spent every year since avoiding New Year Eve celebrations like the plague, always finding an excuse to stay busy. And as the years past, I thought I’d dealt with it. I thought I was okay.
For the first year since, I’m struggling to find the reasons why I’m okay. I’m struggling to remember the distractions I used or what I focused on instead, and for the first time, I’m realizing…I’m not okay. Not even a little bit. I’ve never dealt with this piece of me and never realized that it had already crept out of its box and infected so much of my life. I’m not okay because I’ve never healed, and that is okay. I wasn’t ready then, but I think…I think I’m ready now.
I had a book release ten days ago and I’ve struggled to keep up. I’ve struggled to promote this book the way I normally would, to be online as much as I should, to be as jovial as I should, and I know that’s reflected in how the book is doing. You, as my readers, deserve better than that from me and I’m so sorry.
I know this entire post is different than my usual comedic ramblings or upbeat optimism, but everyone is their own fighting battles and I want to show you both parts of me. I want to be real and open because I need to be, for me, and because I want to be, for you. Because maybe one person will read this post and think…”I’m not alone. I was hurt, too. I haven’t healed, too. I need to heal, too.”
If that’s you, walk this road with me. Feel with me. Heal with me.
I don’t have the answers, but I’m looking for them. I want to feel the same *stars in my eyes* excitement over this book release (because this book is so great and it so deserves that!) that I’ve felt before, but the reality is I’ve closed everything off–both the good and the bad. I can’t feel…anything. And I need to find it again–both for myself, and for my writing.
I need to find me, and I’m going to. I’m going on a trip alone for New Years Eve. I’m spending it by myself in total silence, and not letting a single distraction get between me and healing the parts of me I’ve left broken for so long.
So, this whole post is just me saying I might be stepping back from social media a bit, or seeming a bit off. I might even be a little quieter than before, and I hope you’ll understand. I’m on empty, and I can’t really find where it all went, but it’s gone and I feel, in a way, so am I.
The only thing I do know is I won’t be lost forever. I will find me. I will come back with a roar, beating my chest like a warrior who fought her way out and triumphed. All I really hope for this post and this message is that you’ll be here waiting when I do.
Don’t give up on me. Please.
I haven’t given up on myself.
Update:
These three blog posts continue to discuss my healing progress and growth:
1) I Didn’t Get Out Of Bed Today
2) The Year of “Me First”
3) Healing in a Moment
Above content originally posted on Sarah’s Facebook page here.
Everyone who knows me knows that books are my favorite thing of all the things, because…books. However, in the spirit of Black Friday and Cyber Monday and all the shopping happening this week, I’m going to tell you some of my favorite things that won’t cost you a gosh darn penny and really have nothing to do with writing or reading, because why not?
Here’s a list of my top 5 favorite apps or programs that I use literally every day and kind of make my life. Everything on here, I’ve tried so you can be assured I mean it. However, keep in mind that for some of these I’m also using affiliate links which means I get a little credit, or some times a couple dollars.
TL, DR: We’re talking Digit Savings, theSkimm Daily News, Shine Daily Texts, Breaking News App, and Starbucks Rewards (because, duh).
Anywho, check it out and tell me in the comments which apps you use and love on a daily basis!
A friend introduced me to Digit last Spring and it’s seriously been one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself (aka, I’ve saved $2,000 without even trying). This is a real bank account (yes, real bank account with FDIC insured and the whole nine yards) that saves for you without you having to do a thing. It basically automatically pulls a few dollars here and there from your checking account and puts them in a Digit Savings Account.
How It Works: Set up the Digit app (also done via text) with your checking account and start saving! That simple! You’ll get weekly alerts (or more/less frequent if you want) and you can set how aggressively it saves for you. You can also transfer $ back to your checking account in 1 business day, and you get $5 if someone signs up with your link (Hint!). It won’t overdraft you either, but if on the off chance it does, it will reimburse you everything including the bank overdraft fee (you can also set it so it doesn’t save if your account is below a certain $ amount just in case this makes you nervous!). Now you’ll have a nice cushion of money for emergencies, or a fun goal like a vacation fund or car fund or whatever else you’re saving for! We’re saving up for a car (or maybe that mythical honeymoon we never had *sigh*).
Learn more about Digit at https://digit.co.
Thankfully, a team of snarky, smart, sweet millennials is at the ready to give me the latest news in a less-than-2-minute read in my daily Skimm that goes out to millions of readers, including big-time celebrities like Oprah. Yes, this is Oprah approved! Also, this is bipartisan, so whoever you voted for, you can feel safe reading this!
How It Works: Every Monday through Friday, you get an email about the latest current events happening all around the world. You’ll sound a lot smarter at dinner parties and family gatherings because of it, plus Amazon Echo’s Alexa can read it out loud to you (set that up here) so you’ll feel knowledgable as hell during your morning pee! Side Note: They do have an app that’s $2.99/month and totally awesome and more in depth than the free email, but hey, free is free!
Subscribe to theSkimm today at theskimm.com.
The Shine text has been my lifeline through this election season, and hell, every season. Every Monday through Friday at around 8:30am, I receive an uplifting text message about life, motivations, and positivity.
Here’s an example of the last text I got:
“It is not happy people who are grateful, but grateful people who are happy.” Love. Connectedness. Stretchy pants. Take it all in today, Sarah. #ShineOn 🙂
Now who wouldn’t want to start their day off with a sprinkle of encouragement?
Sign up to receive your free Shine text at shinetext.com.
The Breaking News app is perfect for news junkies like me because I can get all the latest breaking news in one sentence or less immediately.
How It Works: Download the app to your phone and make sure notifications are set. Now pick up to 10 categories to be alerted on (like the election, US news, local news in your town, etc). If you want more than that, I think you have to pay for it. Now each time something happens, you’ll get a notification on your phone about it! You can get the gist from the notification itself or click on it to read more in depth.
Download Breaking News at breakingnews.com/apps.
I don’t get anything but a pat on the back from myself for telling you this, but if you’re a Starbucks lover, or even occasional buyer like myself, you need this app. I get free drinks all the time just by paying attention to their daily doubles or freebies or other cool promotional days. I also can order drinks from my phone and pay for it with my phone. In fact, if I don’t want to wait in line, I just order it from my phone ahead of time and swoop in at the last minute to pick it up while everyone in line stares at me with murder eyes. It’s fun to be hated by strangers.
How It Works: Download the app and link it to a Starbucks giftcard that you can reload again and again (or once you hit gold level, they send you a personalized gold card!). Order through the app and you’ll collect 2 stars per $1 spent. After 125 stars, you get a free drink of any size or type (you know my free drinks are the fanciest, biggest they have with 8 extra shots and would normally cost $20). It’s really easy to get to 125 stars without spending the $60-something you’d think you need to spend because Starbucks does tons of promotions for 50 free stars, 150 free stars, free daily double star points, free stars for ordering XYQ, etc. You just have to pay attention to the deals! 🙂 If you buy cheap drinks (think tea, coffee, iced coffee) instead of fancy drinks, then you really end up spending a lot less and getting the free drink sooner.
Break It Down For Me: For example, they recently had a deal where 9 purchases (over $1) within a week got you an extra 150 stars on top of the stars that each of the purchases normally gets you. By ordering 9 simple drinks like a grande brewed coffee between me and my husband, we spent $22.50 in a week and earned 150 stars, plus the 45 stars that our purchases got us (aka 195 total). In case that seems like a lot of coffee to you, I’m there every day all day writing so it’s kind of like rent to me (I seriously am talking like 50+hrs a week). That’s almost 2 free drinks right there (250 would be 2 free), and since I get a trenta-sized speciality holiday coffee drink with extra shots for my free drink (a $16.86 value according to my receipt), I pretty much paid $5.64 for 10 drinks, including a fancy as hell drink, and I’m only a few stars away from another free drink in a few days. Side note: I’m horrible at math.
Side Note for Writers: If you get regular coffee or iced coffee, and I think even tea, you can get a $0.50 refill if you’re still in the store when you finish it! You can hang out all day and drink 6 grande coffees for under $5 and only a minor heart attack. Talk about a cheap office! (Note: the 50 cent refills don’t earn you star rewards).
Join Starbucks Rewards at members.starbucks.com.
For more about Sarah Robinson and her books, make sure to sign up for her newsletter at eepurl.com/RUobv.
Trigger Warning: If you’re familiar with my blog, you know things are about to get real AF. You also know you’ll probably feel better at the end of this post than you do now when you realize you’re not alone…or maybe I’m just hoping I’m not alone. Either way, take care of yourself.
PS: I also curse a bit…because who doesn’t?
I didn’t get out of bed today, and I might not tomorrow. I might not the day after tomorrow either, and I’m trying to be okay with that.
I’m being slightly dramatic, since obviously I went to the bathroom and the fridge, then wound up on the couch wrapped in blankets with my laptop…but the feelings are the same.
When I first considered writing this post a few weeks ago, I was going to wait until I was “all better”. Until I was out on the other side, after I’d already reached the bottom and climbed my way up to the top. Because I will be up on my feet again…eventually. That’s how living the last two decades with Major Depressive Disorder works.
For a while, everything is okay. It’s tolerable, and some days, it’s even amazing. You’re happy and chill and things seem like they finally have all worked out. And you’ve earned it because you’ve been there, you’ve been at the bottom, you’ve gone through the worst, and you’ve paid your dues. This is your moment. This is what you were striving for during all those tears. It’s delicious and intoxicating…but it’s also fleeting.
Next come the days that aren’t so great, but not horrible, and that’s okay because it’s still not a depressive episode. It’s still tolerable, and you’re still managing your life.
But even that melts down over a few weeks, or months, or years that are hard. Really fucking hard. Your defenses are knocked down and one day, you just can’t put them back up again.
A little over a year ago, my walls started crumbling. My life suddenly didn’t look anything like I’d anticipated, or wanted. But I’m a strong woman–really damn strong, actually.
So, I powered through and tried to keep a smile on my face, and humor in my words.
I powered through a car accident. Through a miscarriage, then another, then another. I powered through losing people I loved, supports I’d come to depend on, and even the very basics of life–my home, my car, my income, my finances. I powered through losing my freedom, my weekends, or even remembering what a full fridge looks like.
Because I’m a strong woman, I powered through.
And then one day, I didn’t. My walls fell for the last time, and I scrambled like hell to find a way to build them back up, but found myself empty-handed.
I had nothing left.
I know the exact second it happened a little over a month ago now. I remember the feeling…one second I was there, then the next second I wasn’t. There was no specific trigger or reason or traumatic event that deserved this.
I’d given the very last of what I had, and now I was empty.
It was that simple. It was that fast.
I knew my next depressive episode had started…but no one else did. How could they? I still went through the motions, and met the bare minimums, and smiled when people asked how I was doing. Only my agent saw the pages I wasn’t turning in or the phone calls I wasn’t answering. Only my husband saw the daily tears, or found me crying curled on the shower floor unable to stand. Only my closest friends saw the emptiness in my eyes and probed further. Only I felt the physical pain of seemingly unbearable heartache throbbing in my chest.
People continued to love and laugh with my online posts or pictures, because they didn’t see that things had changed. I didn’t let them see. They cheered me on, and a few women have even told me they wish they were just like me. I’d smile and laugh it off, because they didn’t really know what they were asking for.
Sometimes I wish I was like the me they saw, too. But it felt like a lie….how could anyone want to be me?
I don’t want to be me.
They just love the online me. They think I’m great because they see the me who’s smiling and tells funny stories and writes sexy books and is always there to help other authors when they need it and so much more.
But that me…is me. Somewhere along the way, I forgot that I am both. I am all of those parts put together, and how could I want anything else?
I can be the woman laughing about a silly encounter with a stranger at the local coffee shop and the woman who feels everything is falling apart and she doesn’t know how to put it back together. I can be the author who helps her friends with their books and the author who didn’t write any words today because depression stole her motivation. I can be the happy fur-mom who posts a thousand pictures of her dogs and the almost-mom who’s lost three babies before she ever could hold them and tell them just how much I’ll always love them.
I can be both, and all of the above, because humans are so many puzzle pieces mashed together and it doesn’t always fit. The picture is sometimes blurry, but it’s all still me. I’m still me.
Someone told me once that I should always be striving to be my best self. Fuck that noise.
My best self is a full life, and that has to mean I won’t always be at “my best.” There will be tears. There will be grief and sadness and anger and hatred and an ache that feels it may never go away. And that’s okay, because my best self is also joy and love and kindness and celebration and everything else combined.
I’m choosing to live my full life, not my best life. To accept the down days and celebrate the happy ones. To appreciate the laughter because I’ve been best friends with the tears. To mope in self-pity where everything is horrible because the world is vicious and at the same time, be overwhelmed at the genuine kindness of strangers who only wanted to remind me this world can be so wholly beautiful.
My full life is wonderful and painful and joyful and devastating.
I am a strong woman…even when I’m not. I am kind, and loving, and difficult, but worth the trouble. I am all the things people tell me I am even when I don’t believe them. And in the same breath, I’m in so much pain that every breath feels like a question.
But, one day I won’t be. One day, I’ll smile and feel it in my chest, in the beat of my heart, and the lightness in my soul.
But not today. And maybe not tomorrow.
And that’s okay. That’s a full life.
Author’s Note: If you’re someone struggling with depression or feelings of suicide, please call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255. You can also text the Crisis Text Line if you need someone to talk to in a non-life threatening crisis by texting START to 741-741. Please seek help if you need it. You are strong. You are brave. You deserve to be here.
The ridiculously tiny woman in the photo above is my mother.
You won’t find her on my birth certificate, or in the delivery room. She can’t complain about how big my head was or how long labor was. She didn’t hold my hands when I took my first steps, or teach me how to tie my shoes. She missed every cute baby smile and giggling little girl moments when everything was easy and happy.
No, I met my mother when I was a pre-teen and she began dating my father. The happy little girl was a distant memory, and in her place was an angry, bitter young woman who had no idea what anything meant or why her biological mother hadn’t loved her enough to…stay.
For years, I fought her being a part of our family. Imagine the worst behavior a pre-teen, then soon, a teenager, can possibly display, then double it. Maybe even triple it. I threw everything I had at her, but for some damn reason, this new woman stayed.
She didn’t push me to be her friend, or call her mom, or even like her. Yet, she also didn’t let me walk all over her, or ignore her, or disrespect her–though I gave it a real college try! When I pulled back, she reached out and reminded me that she was there and that she loved me and that she also wasn’t going to take my shit.
This woman loved me, and she wanted to be my mother.
She may not have been there for my first steps, but she was there for every school function. She was there for every birthday party and comforted me when only one friend showed up (bitter child doesn’t equal tons of friends, y’all). She was there when police dragged me back home, and principals called home complaining, and for every other time I messed it all up and everything came tumbling down around me.
She encouraged me to write, turning my moods and penchant for beating up my siblings, into journaling my feelings with angsty poems written while wearing all black with thick eyeliner inspired by raccoons. She put up with Avril Lavigne at full blast as my 13 yr-old self sat and contemplated how unfair everyone was, how no one understood me, and how lonely and unloved I was (reminder: I was 13, guys.)
But, she was there the whole time, and she loved me. My father loved me. My siblings loved me (okay, there’s still some debate on this one). Everyone loved me, except me.
Maybe that’s why I fought her so much to begin with. And by “begin with”, I mean like 10+ years. She dealt with this for a DECADE, you guys.
She gave me something from day one that I couldn’t give to myself–unconditional love. And it was terrifying. I didn’t recognize it and I couldn’t understand it, which meant I couldn’t accept it. From her, or myself.
I’d like to say I grew out of it in a few years, learned my worth, learned her worth, and everything righted itself…but no. My teens came and went, and I was an adult before I could truly look back and see everything for what it was, rather than what I’d wished it had been.
Learning radical acceptance, and to take life and people at face value was a process, but when I finally embraced it a few years ago, my perspective shifted. I realized that my expectations of others were so much higher than my expectations for myself, and that I needed to love myself before I’d know how to accept it from others.
And now that I do, everything is different, even though everything is the same. But the difference now is me. I learned that loving myself meant loving all of me–even the parts that make me cringe.
I also learned she wasn’t perfect, and that I didn’t need her to be to love her. Just like I wasn’t perfect, and she’d never held that against me the way I had against her. I learned that the shame I harbored for my younger behavior was irrelevant, because it was long forgotten in her eyes. She’d loved me…always, and she always would.
I learned that my biological mother wasn’t trying to hurt me when she left, but that it was okay to feel hurt anyways. I learned to stop judging myself based on people who didn’t love themselves, and therefore couldn’t love me.
But most of all, I learned that I was a motherless daughter only because I’d spent so much time refusing to accept the mother who’d been standing by me for the majority of my life without fail. Because the truth is, I had a mother all along, and her name is Lucy and she didn’t give birth to me, but she loves me just the same as if she had.
I did everything I could to get her to leave, because I’d been taught that that’s what mothers do. But Lucy stayed, because that is what mothers do.
❤️
Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.
There’s a lot of debate in the writer/publisher/book world about why an author should write, or why a book should be published. Is it to record a moment of history? Or make a shit ton of money? Maybe it should be for vague artistic reasons and cost nothing. Or maybe the artist/author/writer should be paid more than $0.99 for a book they spent hours and hours and hours and hours on.
Whatever the reason, it all tends to boil down to one thing for the author themselves. Take away all those things and you’ll still find a writer putting their words out into the world for one simple reason.
I wrote it because I wanted you to read it.
That sinking, thrilling, horrifying, exhilarating high of knowing your words are in someone else’s hands right now and they are READING YOU! *breathes into a paper bag*
There’s really nothing like it, and that high is why writers put their work out there. They want you to love their words, come back for me, and be forever changed by what you’ve given them.
So, to say I was shocked and ecstatic to see a recurring theme to the early reviews for NOT A HERO would be an understatement. I’m FREAKING HONORED AF! Thank you, thank you, thank you!
Check out the snippets below and don’t forget to preorder Not a Hero today!!
PS: Preorder Not A Hero:
(Click on the desired retailer below to purchase!)
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA
TBR on Goodreads | Visit the Author Website
*available on Kindle Unlimited!
“This is a wonderful “coming home from deployment” story with fantastic well developed characters. This is my first book by Sarah Robinson but it will definitely NOT be my last.” – Cheryl
“This is an epic love story full off all the feels and I may have shed a tear or two along the way. This was the first book I’ve read by Sarah and it for sure won’t be the last.” – Tracy
“This is the first book I’ve read by Sarah Robinson but it won’t be my last for sure, definitely another author that’s been added to my favourites.” – Jordan
“This was a beautiful story which touches your heart in all the right places. This is the first book I’ve read from Sarah and I wasn’t disappointed.” – P Leslie
“This is my first book by Sarah Robinson, and it was wonderfully written, with a heart-wrenching, engaging plot and endearing characters. I finished the book over the course of one day, which shows how much I withdrew from reality to enjoy it.” – Meghan
“Not a Hero was my very first book by Sarah Robinson but it sure won’t be my last. Being a military romance, I instantly wanted to read it and this book delivered with so much more.” – Melissa
“This was my first time reading a book by Sarah Robinson and I found this book well written and that I enjoyed her writing style with the dual point of view.” – Pratna
“This is my first read by this author and I’d read her again.” – Ayekah
*these reviews were all copied from Goodreads reviewers!
A year ago today, the woman in this photo had so many plans.
She knew what her next steps were. She knew what she wanted, and she knew how to get there. She felt strong, successful, optimistic, and so damn excited. She was about to turn 26 years old, going to become a mother, kick ass in her career, finish paying off the debt she’d been working hard as hell to get rid of, and continue adding to her and her husband’s savings for a down payment on a house. Plans were made, actions were taken, and everything was freaking fantastic.
And then life happened, like it always does.
The woman in this photo lost her car, and freedom, in a staggeringly expensive car accident eleven months ago. She also published her first traditional book with one of the biggest publishers in the world at the same time, celebrating with the realization she could do this.
The woman in this photo entered her third year of marriage completely unsure if there would ever be a fourth as communication broke down and pains surfaced they didn’t know how to handle. She also laughed, loved, and lifted up her husband anyway, despite the tears she cried in private.
The woman in this photo suddenly became her home’s main breadwinner, and the debt she’d been paying down skyrocketed back up, their savings gone. She also doubled down and worked harder, wrote longer, and made it work without ever letting the world see her sweat.
But she did sweat, and age 26 dripped away with it.
The woman in this photo did celebrate her fourth anniversary two days ago, not with fancy dinners or sweet nothings, but in the early morning hours with her husband’s hand gently rubbing her back as she cried and tried to breathe through the pain of her third pregnancy ending too soon…again. She sat in the nursery that has been empty for months and re-read their adoption rejection because now they only had her income to count on, and being a (successful) author apparently isn’t considered stable.
The woman in this photo is still miscarrying right now as the camera snaps away, but she’s smiling at the children in the coffee shop and eagerly awaiting holding her friend’s newborn this weekend. She smiles and says “Soon!” every time people ask her when she and her husband will finally start their family, and she tries not to show them how their questions break her.
The woman in this photo wrote 5 books this year she is very proud of, including one that is a terrifying venture into uncharted waters and she’s unsure if any publisher will even want it. She’s also two weeks away from her next book being published, and she’s still working 16 hour days, 7 days a week, and making ends meet, and she always will…somehow.
That same woman turns 27 years old tomorrow., certainly not a big milestone to most. But to her? An entire year of her life is gone, and some days it feels completely wasted.
She has no answers. She has no plans. She has no idea how anything is going to work out, and maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be.
Maybe as you get older, you actually know less. Maybe once the plans and the assumptions and the arrogance are stripped away and you realize you actually don’t know a damn thing…maybe that’s when you finally figure it all out.
The woman in this photo spent the last year losing everything, but at the same time, learning who she is and being okay with who that turned out to be. She knows what she wants, and she knows she has zero idea how to get it, or if she’ll ever have it, but she also knows she’s never going to stop trying.
The woman in this photo won’t have a big party for her 27th, and be hurt when only a few people show up, because she’s learned how valuable her heart is and not to give it away to people who didn’t ask her for it in the first place. She’ll have a tiny dinner with her closest friends and feel so much love, she will probably cry a little at how wonderful it all is.
The woman in this photo hates what she’s been through, but not where it’s taken her, because maybe this was always the path she was meant to take to find herself. She is still married and very vulnerable and it’s absolutely terrifying, but wonderful, because they’re no longer two kids in love, the world be damned, but figuring out how to be adults where love is also commitment and work, and so much stronger and intimate.
The woman in this photo no longer apologizes for what she thinks and feels, instead, embracing her uniqueness and the fact that not everyone will like her. She knows her limits and she tries to respect them, while still fumbling in the dark to figure out how far they stretch.
The woman in this photo feels a strength in her new, hard-earned self that allows her to open her heart, her truth, her pain to the world in this story and is not afraid of the consequences. She’s broken and whole and hurting and healed and everything she wanted to be that she never knew to reach for.
The woman in this photo turns 27 tomorrow.
She knows nothing. She has nothing.
And that’s everything.
That’s happiness.
Edited to add this amazing photo by a reader! Love! Feel free to share 🙂