Excuse Me While I Go Throw Up

Photo by Vladislav Muslakov on Unsplash

It’s been some time that I have not been publishing regularly on Ceecee’s Stories. The reason is that I got pregnant and the nausea was crippling.

While this is so #blessed, having to admit it puts me in a weird place.

On one hand, I feel guilty and ashamed that I let nausea keep me from writing regularly, mostly because I had lots of help with the housework and cooking. Truly, I asked myself every day “How can I be taken seriously as a writer if I pull things like this?” and “What kind of work discipline do I have if I stop working every time I feel sick?”

On the other hand… Excuse me while I go throw up.

It might be just the tired version of me talking right now, but: Are the expectations we have for the modern woman actually healthy?

I’m not talking about me, but for the every woman out there, who is expected to perform 100% at work, while maintaining a stellar home, being there for her kids and looking like the tireless fairy of your dreams, despite the constant changes of her body including hormones, periods, pregnancies, and menopause. Something has got to give! When it does, we are told this why some believe the sexes could never be truly equal.

But we are! It’s just that more is expected of women than of men.

Photo by Kristina Flour on Unsplash

I hate the “us versus them” argument  because I love, respect and appreciate the men in my life, but how many men are expected to be successful businessmen, while spending a good amount of time with their families, work around the house after work, and actively try to look like the Greek gods while their bodies undermine them?

I am sure some perfect men exist, like there are superwomen out there who are able to do it all, but the thing is, men “doing it all” do not set the bar to a man’s success. With men, it’s enough to be successful at one thing, mainly with their career, and this is not the case with women.

Yes, it’s definitely the tired version of me talking right now, but can we cut some slack to the business woman whose house is a mess? And to the family woman who sacrificed her career and settled for a job with lower pay—or, gasp, quit her job altogether—so that she can have more time with her kids?

No, I am not asking for sympathy because I was not fruitful for 3 months. I am definitely not setting the ground for making excuses for any future shortcomings. I know that if don’t produce good enough work in a competitive world that does not take into consideration individual shortcomings, I will never be successful. The point of this blog is to say screw it, my house is going to be messy sometimes. On some days I WILL leave the house knowing full well my hair is all over the place and you can’t say anything about it. Sometimes, I have to throw up all day.

I am not weak for it. We are not weak for having the bodies we have. Our minds make us weak, our minds make us strong, and if we are not superwomen all the time, that’s OK.

Now can I be excused?

The First Diary Log in a Long Time

I started to write again daily logs a few weeks ago as an attempt to make myself write when I am not in the mood to write creatively.

It was impossible not to remember the first time I started a diary and compare. I must have been around 15 then, or a bit older, still it was fun to remember how I was then versus now. As with all of us, some things changed and some didn’t and I discovered fact that most of my demons are still here, that I hadn’t faced them.

In the middle of that something happened, I gave a voice to my demons so I decided to share.

The following is my diary log as it is in my copybook (though edited, and run-on paragraphs have been omitted):


The last time I started jotting daily logs I was around 15, and carried on doing so till my 20’s.

Now at 33, I can’t help but look back at how different I was at 15, how I have changed, and what are the things I have and have not accomplished.

It makes me smile to think, that although I have achieved many things, I did so differently than my 15 year-old self would have wanted and that’s actually not only OK, but for the better. I am happy that my life did not end up being a dream come true for my 15 year old self, but a happy life for my now 33 year old self.

If I had to point the greatest change to my character these last 18 years have resulted in, it would be the loss of most of my idealism, in favor of realism, empathy, leniency, and pragmatism. The area where age least affected, I suppose, would be my optimism… I still a few negative traits I thought I would have shed by now, but I haven’t. I don’t want to mention them, as they may still go away if I don’t give them any attention… like I said I am an optimist.

I learnt a few things too growing up. I know now that some things are attainable if we reach out, and I also know, that hard work does not always result in success. I learned that failure does not mean incompetency, but that an unfinished work never counts as an accomplishment. It cannot even be a good indicator of potential, only a finished work can be. An successful person does not talk about the things he/she can accomplish, only the things he/she already did.

A good discovery I have made since I was fifteen is that I have never, ever regretted following my moral compass. Every single “great opportunity” that I didn’t take, every little oversight that I did not commit, and every time I was tempted to settle for something and I didn’t, it turned out for the best. Never there has been an instant in my life that following my moral compass did not only let me keep my dignity as person but also protected me from harm.

15 year old me will be positively surprised that following my unwavering faith to what love should be has led me to loving and marrying the most wonderful and amazing person that Johnny is. In retrospect, this just amazes me.

Well that’s all fine and dandy, 15 year old me would say right about now and then ask “so are you a published writer like we always wanted to be?”

Well, about that…

I could give a “clever” answer to why I have not been able to be there yet. I could say that maybe life sometimes guides you away from what you want in life in favor for gaining experience in other areas so that I can become a better artist or writer over the long run, but the truth is, this explanation  would only serve to make myself feel better. The no-bullshit-short answer is “No, because I am a lazy coward.”

While I have been published  a few times (in a couple of magazines like Time out Beirut, and Entrepreneur, I have a children’s story on the Lamsa app, and have self-published on Amazon and the ibookstore), I am nowhere near being a successful author.

Like my 15 year old self would want, I still want be a published writer, a capable illustrator, an artist that can create engaging works of art. I also wanna be a frequent blogger to entertain often and get in touch with people. I love meeting new people and getting to know them, even though I am such an introvert that just thinking about it physically tires me.

Even though I have published blogs, and I have published small pieces of my work, still the idea that i have to give others a piece I have written terrifies me. It makes me feel exposed, and ashamed.

(You are only reading this piece because I have been “psyching” myself up for it for 5 weeks now and some of the raw material has been stricken out)

I think this is the reason that whenever I come close to finish something, I just can’t. I try and I try to hide any detail that may reflect upon myself, what I truly think and how I truly am. I edit and edit until my work becomes a total bastardization of my original idea, it becomes devoid of any depth and just blunt. In the end, I become frustrated as the work becomes so irredeemable that my only option is to start another project.

This is not the worst part, the worst part is that it’s a cycle. If I stay like this I will never publish a book, not now, not 18 years from now. If I don’t fight it, if I don’t even try, I would have not lived a fulfilled life.

I had many paths to choose all along my life, I chose to try and be a published, to be successful writer and I have a plan. I am going to be a blogger and work my way up to a successful writer. Even if every blog is a fight against my demons. I will have to face them, one day right?

(Around here I was thinking maybe I should post this on my blog, and then my demons came as expected… I wanted to face them, to fight them, so the following happened– heads up: in my mind it happened colorfully like the hybrid of the movie where Scott Pilgrim fights the exes and Epic rap battles of history, except it is not a rap battle… in fact I am the least qualified person on Earth to rap anything)

Cynthia Fights Her Demons

ROUND 1: Me VS. the Self Doubt Creature (SDC)

SDC: You are not going to post this, are you?

me: Well, I was thinking it could be entertaining for people to see me talking about my demons, right? and it’s personal, truthful and real, and hopefully grammar error free.I think they might like it.

SDC: People you know may read it

me: Yes, I know. I usually never want people to know that I am struggling with anything. I want people who know me to think of me as happy, content and hopeful all the time, because I am! but this is just a struggle they could also identify with.

SDC: You should remove it from your Facebook feed, or create a new blog without any ties to your personal social media accounts.

me: I could do that, but the whole point of sharing this in my own established blog is that it is a personal experience. It could inspire people to face their own demons in amusing ways.

SDC: Now we’re being a little full of ourselves, why anything you write can be an inspiration to anyone?

me: This is more of a hope of mine. The log could be entertaining too.

SDC: Aren’t you kind of old to be doing what you are doing right now? You have too much self doubt to have any ambitions about writing. better not embarrass yourself with any of this.

me: Why have I always felt that I was too old to do anything? I swear I remember being 4 and thinking I was too old for ballet, because I got it in my head that “you gotta be 2 to start learning ballet.”

SDC: What would Johnny say?

me:  I could ask him

SDC: THIS WHOLE THING IS STUPID, once you think about it, you will realize it. Go ahead post it and be spontaneous. You’ll regret it, the minute it gets published. All this sharing and being an “extrovert” is not who you are. Better stay true to yourself.

me: Sometimes you have to get out of your comfort zone

SDC: … you’re hopeless

me:  I could write other things  suppose, instead of this. I don’t have to write personal things.

SDC: Whatever, it is probably going to be boring anyway. You are not that interesting. Why do even you think you could be special enough to be interesting

***Enter the Over-excited Optimistically Fantastical Fairy(OOFF)***

OOF: OMG! OMG! OMG! If you post this conversation between you and your demons, it’s going to be HUGE! This is soooo interesting! You are going to do GREAT THINGS!!!

SDC & me: Shut up!

SDC: Who left the window open?

me: I did, I needed someone to balance you out. Hopefully one day I can be strong enough to mute you both, forever.

SDC and OFOT: You will never get rid of us

me: Probably not, it wouldn’t be human, and I think I have wasted enough time talking to myself today.

I am going to ask Johnny what he thinks of this.

End Of Round 1!!!


….And this is how I ended the first diary log in a long time. Giving voice to my demons gave me a visual of how my subconsciousness works, and where it blocks me. 

I asked Johnny this is how the conversation went:

– me: so I have started a diary where I talk to my demons and it is actually helping me with my self-doubt as a writer

– Johnny: Cool, you should share that on your blog, it is interesting…

So after I took the approval of my hubby, I got a new sense of self-confidence and went right away to publish it on my blog… No I am kidding, I have battled with this for 5 weeks, and if you are reading this now I won… See why I need to face my demons? I will never get anything published if I can’t publish a frigging blog.

And here’s  something to look forward for next week. Next week, I will share the next log in my new diary. It is about facing the the demon that always seems to have the upper hand on me. If you are reading this, it doesn’t mean I won a round with him, it just means I am hiding from him.  Shhhhhhhh….

No More Procrastination

Procrastination was a real problem for me. It is for every writer starting out, probably – I thought my problem was unique until I discovered tumblr, pinterest and other social media making fun little posts about writers procrastinating.

“Why you do procrastinate” My very-workaholic-concerned-about-my writing-career-engineer-very efficient-then-boyfriend-now husband-of-four-months asked all the time.

The first few times I always had an excuse. It was the same excuse I would use on my parents, family and friends. My excuse mostly had to do with me not having enough time.

While most people just accepted that, very-workaholic-concerned-about-my writing-career-engineer-very efficient-then-boyfriend-now husband-of-four-months did not buy it for a long time. He came to the conclusion that I did not really want to become a published writer. When he told me that, I nearly fainted. What? Writing is my oxygen. I write all the time, I just never finish anything. It is my one and only dream to succeed as a writer. I didn’t even care much about success, I just wanted writing to be a sufficient source of income for me. I would be happy then.

And just to prove my point a little more because of the not-so-convinced look about him, I told him how I was different as a child. Unlike other girls, I never thought about my wedding day much. I was very happy I met him afterwards, just my first love was not a boy, but writing; creating worlds out of my own rules. Whenever I wrote I felt I met the most interesting people (imaginary people), and got to follow on their adventures.

“So why don’t you finish anything?” was his usual follow-up question.

Then I felt the same emotion I had every time I was done with the first draft of anything. Pure fear. What if the story is silly? What if the characters are stupid? What if there are plot holes. What if I finish it I show it to people and they tell me I am not meant to be a writer? My world would collapse. I would have no purpose. I couldn’t handle living in a world without purpose, without a dream. What if I fail?

Once he had enough of my excuses, my very workaholic- concerned … well his name is Johnny told me,

“You are afraid of failing? Don’t get me wrong I would be ecstatic if you get to succeed from your first try but who do you think you are, that you can’t handle failing a few times before you make it, while the rest of us try and fail every day in order to succeed.”

Well I might be paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less what he told me when I buried my head in my hands. He was right. I shouldn’t be afraid of failure. I did not tell him I was also afraid of the slight possibility of success also.

Anyway, it was a revolutionary moment in my life. Not that I only needed to hear those words in order to become instantly efficient but I did become more and more efficient and I did overcome some of my irrational fears.

Completing the Nanowrimo challenge last November was just one more way I could prove to myself that things can eventually be finished if I keep working at them.

So now, my next challenge is to edit the story I wrote for the challenge. The story is called “What Michelle won’t tell.” And it is about two fraternal twin sisters Danielle and Michelle. Dani thought she knew all about her sister, but things happen and Dani discovers Michelle has been keeping a dangerous secret.

I love mystery/suspense novels; they tell you write about something you love to read about, so I am trying my luck with that.

The odds are not in my favor. This story may not get published ever. That’s OK. I will still try my best and I will still believe in it. I might get disappointed but since I can’t stop writing, I will learn and keep at it. I will try and keep the procrastination beast away from me as much as possible.

Got to go now and edit my story. If I spend more time on my blog I would be procrastinating.

Fishing for Good Luck

Too bad Felix Felicis, Harry Potter’s good luck potion, isn’t real because there are times, I could really use one of those… I swear, though, I would not use it wastefully.

When sitting within the constraints of an empty room with playful lighting, it is safe get to let my mind wander to made up places whether fantastical or realistic and get high on imagination alone. If I ‘m lucky a story-line may form, but I wouldn’t use my good luck potion to secure that.

While I was working for a company that conducts statistics for commercial purposes, I came across a problematic project. For the results to be accurate, the process  involved an interview over half an hour long and had to be conducted at the interviewee’s home. As you can imagine, finding a willing participant and who also fit the criteria was not an easy task; and I thought I needed a whole lot of luck if I was to conduct at least 5 interviews per day. Well I succeeded in doing much more than 5 per day and it was more about persistence than luck.

It is a universally known fact : writers need a lot of luck to be successful.

There is nothing I ever wanted in life more than creating stories. It’s not really about getting published. Don’t get me wrong, my ultimate goal is getting published regularly, but that is only  because my writings would obtain purpose, and my obsession with stories would have meaning. Do I need perseverance or luck to get there?

There were times I didn’t  believe in pure luck and there were times I was convinced it was ill luck to blame for my failures. In saner moments, I figured good fortune may only come when one works hard enough. So let’s just assume I had a lucky potion. There is still so much work to be done.

With persistence one may get lucky. OK, that could have been phrased better: what I meant to say was with hard work you may get to score…
When  you do your homework, you just need only a push, a bit of good luck,  to go all the way.



The Trials of a Writer

As a writer it’s not often you get those really great story ideas.A picture, a look of a passer-by, a line someone said, or something completely random has triggered something in you and bam! Congratulations you’ve just been inspired.

Words, pictures, a whole alternate universe is rushing into your head. You see the hero/heroine and the storyline clearly in your head and, God help you, you’re smitten.

These are the kind of ideas you know people will relate to; you are sure they will love the story and the characters involved. The only thing you need to do now is to jot anything that comes to your mind. It could be a summary of the plot, or some characteristics in the personality of the characters, the goals, the difficulties and the situations need to be overcome. These ideas need to be written right in the moment they are conceived while everything is still rushing. You are sure not everything is going to make sense once you are done, but you are not the writer right then, you are the reporter. And as every reporter will tell you when you are at the heart of the event you must take notes of everything, you can’t take mental notes. Mental notes can’t be trusted. Can you imagine a reporter taking mental note during a politician’s speech? Sure he/she will remember what was it all about later but the article will undoubtedly be lacking.


While no one will judge a reporter taking notes during an event, I bet it would look quite odd if you saw someone stopping whatever one was doing and started feverishly taking notes in some notepad. But looking a bit loony is not what worries a writer, what worries him/her is if this great idea, this storm of thoughts, comes and goes and he/she is, in one way or another, unable to take any notes. Yes, later on the writer can remember what the idea was about, but like the reporter taking mental notes, his notes will be lacking.

I must say though, one advantage a writer has over the reporter is that after several brainstorming sessions, he/she should be able to retrieve a lot of the initial inspiration, but this is not certain. When this happens to me, sometimes it will take me a couple of brainstorming sessions to retrieve everything; other times it would take me a couple of weeks. There are a few times it took me months to remember everything. And there are a couple of ideas that for the love of everything this Earth has to offer, I can’t remember what they were about. They are just lost. Like the times you wake up from a really good dream, but you can’t remember what was about.

Anyways, I think I have proved how vital is taking notes but then there is timing to take into consideration and timing is not always on your side. Actually it rarely is when inspiration hits me. Let me illustrate:

1. The time my hands are tied.  Not literarily of course, but like when my mom and I are helping my old grandma up the stairs because there’s no elevator. While I contemplate possibly about the sorrows of life, or more realistically about the show on TV that I am missing, damn it, I get inspired. I am not going to leave my grandma alone with my mom, and of course there are a lot of stairs left and my grandma takes a whole two minutes on each step. Not because she is in pain but because she has to be told there is a step at each and every step. Then she has to think about it, agree there is a step and finally make that step. This is not by far the worst case scenario, up to half an hour later I can go write. But what about the time…

2. There is an emotional emergency. Imagine your best friend crying on your shoulder over losing her job, finding her love of her life cheating on her and her parents blame her for it. Your heart is broken over her situation. She has no self-esteem left in her. You just want to pick her up, make her believe everything is going to be alright and teach everyone who has been a jerk to her a lesson. That would make a great story. Shit! NO! I can’t be inspired right now! Inspired by true events… No! No! No! I am a terrible friend. Up to three-four hours later I go home and I feel too guilty to write about any of the writing ideas I got while consoling my friend, so I just let it go, or postpone it for years to come, when we are possibly not friends anymore. I do write about something else though, but sometimes there’s the nightmare of…

3. A Sleepy writer. Since I was sixteen, it’s been like a ritual of mine to make time to write right before it’s time to sleep. This is a great exercise for me, when the house is quiet I really get the chance to clear my head. By the time I can’t keep my eyelids open, I have jotted ideas for books, written a short story or edited the same poem I have been editing since I was sixteen. In short I’ve paid my dues to the literary world and owe nothing more.  Right then, I just want to sleep. As I close my eyelids blissfully slipping into the dream world, an awesome writing idea comes to me. I just want to scream, “Oh fate, what do you want from me?” Sometimes I do take notes before I finally fall asleep, but then wake up with pen still in hand and ink stains on my face, pillow and sheets. Joking aside, the best writing ideas come when you are writing. You can be writing anything, from a diary entry to a blog post and you will get the best ideas, but what if…

4. You get Inspired for a story while you are already getting inspired for different story. So you have been illuminated at the right time and fictional universes are getting created on your laptop. You are typing faster that you thought possible, and you are just catching up with the flow of ideas. No distractions. Life is good! Then one of the characters being formed makes a special connection with you, and it all spins out of control as you think of a beautiful side story that HAS to be told.  What do you do? You jam? You try to write both? Or ignore the latest until you have given the first your full attention? Yeah you can’t have it all.

These are few of a writer’s trials, which are kind of positive. Getting inspired at the right time is much better that those two fearful words: Writer’s Block.