Blog posts

This past Saturday I participated in a multi-author book signing at Barnes and Noble, organized by Pennwriters, the nationwide writer’s group I belong to. It was my first book signing without giving a speech before hand. I didn’t know what to expect. I posted on many local social media sites and told my customers about it. I hoped all my hard work would bring a lot of people eagar to buy my book.

Once I arrived at the store, I noticed there were no tables set up. While I went to ask a fellow writer, Gene, my family friend and driver, Julie, looked for an employee to ask. While I talked to Gene, Julie returned to tell us that there were tables set up downstairs for us. Gene was disappointed. He thought we would be upstairs where most of the customers spend their time. His disapproval seemed logical. Once other authors arrived, they also disapproved of the location. I still had high hopes to sell several books.

My friend and mentor, Amy, had told me to pack ten to fifteen books. My mom taught me it’s better to have too many then not enough. So I packed twenty-five books and put them on a corner of the table. I also put a sign-up sheet for my blog, and bookmarks and business cards. I was prepared.

It didn’t take long for me to see why the others were upset with the location. There wasn’t a high volume of customers on the lower floor. Those that came were looking for specific genres and only glanced at our tables. The author next to me brought a game called Bananagrams. It’s like Scrabble. You pick out twenty-one letters and try to make words. This helped alleviate our boredom. When a customer stopped to browse, I would look up to greet him or her and give a small pitch about my book.

The bookstore once in a great while announced we were downstairs, but it wasn’t enough. Julie had suggested that they needed a poster upstairs telling the customers about us and directing them downstairs. She was right. A poster would have made the customers more aware of us and our location. When I do a book signing of my own, I’ll make sure I have a poster made.

The bookstore had several events going on. They had a birthday party in the kids’ section and therapy dogs there. You would think that would bring more customers into the store who would want an autographed book, but not really. When they brought the therapy dogs down to see us, people crowded around our tables, but they wanted to see the dogs and not our books. Who wants to check out books when there are adorable dogs to pet? I also enjoyed petting the dogs.

The kids’ party brought parents of children and was good for the two authors who had written books for that age group. I thought maybe it would be good for my memoir about bullying, but the parents never made it past the authors with children’s books. The good news is the author next to me was very interesting to talk to. We had plenty of time to get to know each other and share our writing processes.

Ana, a fellow breast cancer survivor, showed up to buy my book. A customer of mine from Giant Eagle came, and a teacher who taught the opposite class from mine in fourth grade also showed up. I sold a total of three books over six hours. At least it was better than what I did at the craft fairs where I sold my woodburnings over the summer. One craft fair I sold two things and another one I sold nothing.

The bookstore gets forty percent of each book we sell. Being an author is not a lucrative business. When you see an author in television show sell a book and go on a big spending spree, that is untrue. Unless you have a best-selling book and movies made of your book, you don’t make a lot of money. I made $28.78. Not a lot of money but it was something. I’m putting some of the money I make towards getting a new computer. Eventually I will earn enough to buy one.

My day wasn’t a total loss. I got to know another author, I made some money, and I petted some adorable dogs. An author’s life isn’t easy, but I will keep pushing forward. I still have a talk and book signing at Blasco Library in Erie November 30. I have time to spread the word. Plus I plan on setting up other events.

When I was sick with mental illness, I would have seen Saturday as a total disaster and slipped into a depression. I’ve grown and learned a lot since then. Seeing the positive is what helps me stand in the light of recovery.

Here in Pennsylvania Fall has settled in with changing weather. We go from warm temperatures to cold. The saying here in my area is, “In a blink of an eye go from summer to spring to fall to winter.” The changing weather causes a lot of problems with sicknesses and allergies. Within a matter of about six weeks, I went from an asthma flare up to a cold and now a sinus infection. My husband and I went to Chazy, New York, to visit my friend Cheryl, and the whole time I struggled with a cold, but we still had a blast. Then I came home, and the doctor said I now have a sinus infection. Therefore, I haven’t written a new blog post in a little while. I’m taking antibiotics and getting better.

I thought I would do a little different blog post than usual. I have been wracking my brain and struggling with my computer to figure out how to set up a subscription button on my website for a newsletter. Writers use newsletters to keep in contact with their readers and to let the readers know about the authors’ writing adventures. I have failed at putting the subscription button on my site. I decided this post will be like a newsletter.

Since my book was published in July, I have sold 90 books on Amazon and 97 books myself. I couldn’t be prouder of my book, but since I have been focused on my first book, I haven’t taken any steps towards writing another book. I have plans to turn some of my blog posts into a book. My friend Roberta agreed to organize my posts for me and to help me with this book. Roberta has been editing each of my blog posts since I started blogging. She catches all my errors before I post. I owe her a lot of thanks. She has her hands full organizing my posts.

I do have plans for a second memoir. I plan to write one about the years after the family garage. There are events that happened after the garage that are very difficult to write about. I pushed through the pain to write my first book and will push through the pain to write my second memoir. Writing my first book was extremely difficult, yet healing, and so will writing my second memoir. Right now, I am writing down memories on index cards. When I’m ready to write my book, I will organize the index cards into a timeline and decide which chapters they will go in.

Right now, I’m working hard at learning to market Escape to the Garage: Family Love Overcomes Bullying. I’m staying busy on social media posting about my book, I’m telling my customers about my book, and I’m setting up events. A local newspaper, Erie Times News, published an article about me and this has gotten me a lot of attention from my customers. They are excited to have their cashier be a published author. My fellow employees are excited, too. They posted the news article by the time clock.

November 12, this coming Saturday, I will take part in a multi-author book signing at Barnes and Noble, in Erie from 11 a.m.to 5 p.m., sponsored by Pennwriters. Pennwriters is a nation-wide writing organization I belong to. If you live in the Erie area, come and see me and the other authors.

November 30 I will give a speech and sig books at Blasco Library in Erie from 6:30 to 7:30 p.m.. I will talk about how bullying affects the victims and bullying prevention. I will also sell my own woodburned leather bracelets that say, “Stop Bullying.”

I have five copies of my book at Werner Books a bookstore in Liberty Plaza, Erie. My chiropractor, Steve Krauza, has allowed me to put some books for sale in his office. This Wednesday I stopped at a bookstore on West Eighth Street in Erie, and once the manager comes back from a trip, a few of my books will be on sale there. If you live out of town you can get my book on Amazon at  smarturl.it/EscapetotheGarage. You can also go to the home page of this site and click on the picture of my book and it will take you to Amazon to order your book.

I’m looking into more places to give speeches and sell my book. I think we all need to work together to get the word out that bullying is wrong, and we need to put an end to it. Bullying causes mental health problems, anger problems, suicide, and much more. It happens in our schools, online, workplaces, communities and in churches. I can’t completely put an end to bullying, but I hope I can reach out and help others who are being bullied and those who were bullied, educate people, and bring awareness to the damage it causes.

Let’s stand up together to stop bullying.

Last week we went to my best friend Cheryl Miller’s. We got home late Friday night. The whole time I struggled with a cold, but we still had a wonderful time. Due to all the traveling and still struggling with a cold I didn’t feel up to writing a blog post. I plan on writing one next week.

While on the trip my friend and I hit up some craft stores. I got some nice projects to woodburn. So check out Aimee’s Woodburnings on Facebook groups to see what new woodburnings I come up with.

Until next week keep reaching for the light of recovery.

In therapy I learned to write letters to those who hurt me. Recently I took a one-day writing conference and the workshop teacher discussed using the letter writing for characters. She told us to think of our character in a story we are writing or have written about then have the character write a letter to the person in the story who has or is hurting them. Since I write memoir the character is a much younger me. This sparked an idea. What would younger Aimee write to her biggest bully in my book Escape to the Garage: Family Love Overcomes Bullying.

If you haven’t read my book the biggest bully is a girl named Donna. She pretended to be my friend while treating me like I was helpless and worthless. Donna is not her real name. I changed her name to protect her privacy. Below is my note.

Dear Donna,

  I thought you were my friend. You seem like you liked me when I met you in my second year of first grade, but yet you put me down. You treated me like I was dumb from the start. It took me a while to realize you were never my friend. You tear me apart every chance you get. You fool the teachers into thinking you are helping me when in reality you are holding me down.

 You never show kindness in the words you say to me or the way you treat me. You rip me apart every chance you get. Does it make you feel good to cut me down like trash? Your words hurt. They rip apart my self-esteem, my strength, and my self-worth apart. I stopped trying to succeed because I believe you and the teachers are right, I am stupid. But are you right? My mom says I’m smart. Wouldn’t it be funny if some day I prove you wrong?

 I feel sadness every day. I have nightmares at night, and I fear to go to school every morning. It’s because of you and your friends. You all torment me each day and it’s not fair. I’ve never did anything to deserve it. I hate you for how you make me feel. I hate that I go home each day crying because of the names you call me. I feel so sad and hopeless and it’s all because of you. Are you proud of yourself for being so mean?

 Bullying me doesn’t make you a better person. Giving me answers on tests doesn’t make you a good person. What you are doing to me should never be done to anyone. I am a person who just has a learning disability. I have feelings, I cry just like everyone else, I want to be accepted just like everyone else, and I bleed just like everyone else. The only thing different about me is I learn differently.

  I’m much better than you are because I know how to treat people with kindness. To bad you never took the time to get to know me, because if you had you would find that I’m a good person, I’m fun to be around and I’m loyal to those I care about. Too bad you are too rotten to ever get to know the real me.

  I feel sorry for you. You’ll never have real friends. You don’t know how to be a good friend. I hate you and will not let you ruin me. Some day I will rise above you and show you I can be more than on welfare. You’ll see I will succeed, and you will just be a lonely miserable person.

 How dare you put me down? You have no right. You don’t deserve to have a happy life. I wish you sadness and misery. I wish the same torture you have put on me.

Sincerely,

Aimee Eddy

Has someone hurt you badly when you were younger? If the younger you wrote that person a letter, what would it say? Take a step backwards, be that younger person and write that letter. Don’t send the letter. Instead take it to a safe place and burn the letter. Free the pain that child or teenage in you has been harboring. This method is very healing. Just writing this letter was helpful for me.

Writing my memoir and this note to my biggest bully has healed my childhood wounds. Because of writing these I stand in the light even stronger.

Since my book has been published, I have been stopped by many people telling me their stories about how they were bullied or how they struggle with mental illness. My purpose for writing my book and even this blog is to reach out to others and show them they are not alone. My intentions are not to just tell my story but to educate others, to encourage those who struggle, and to give advice.

I believe God guided me through the struggles in my life to be able to rise above them and to use them to help others. I’m not an expert in the field of mental illness or bullying. I am a survivor who writes about my experiences to reach out to others. Years of struggling, therapy, healing, and coping have given me the ability to write my blog and book.

God uses us in many ways. He puts us in situations or the right places where we can help others. This weekend I had lunch with a woman during an event. We were talking about ourselves, and she confided in me she was struggling with mental illness. I asked her what her illness was. She told me she was a self-injurer.

I told her I also had been a self-injurer and have been injury free for twenty years. Self-injury is not something you can just wake up one morning and decide to stop. It’s an unhealthy coping mechanism that becomes an addiction. It’s like alcoholism or smoking cigarettes. You can’t just stop without determination, help, and hard work.

I had no advice that would make it easier for the woman to stop self-injuring. The best I could do was give her advice that may or may not help her. I told her about what helped me stop self-injuring. A co-worker gave me a goal to go six months without injuring. The co-worker told me if I could make it to that six months, she would put on a celebration for me.

Those were the toughest six months of my life. Several times I picked up a razor blade and held it in my hand wanting to make just one cut to ease the overwhelming pain inside me. Tears streamed down my face, anguish filled my soul, and my thoughts fought a silent battle.

Just one cut and I’ll feel better.

No, you have to make it six months without cutting.

I can’t handle this pain in me without cutting.

Yes, you can handle the pain. Try journaling, hold an ice cube until you feel the sting of coldness, or call a friend.

My thoughts fought, but my determination eventually won, and I put the blade down. I struggled, but I did make it to the six months. My co-worker put together a party at a restaurant with my friends.

I told the woman about this in a condensed version. I encouraged her to start with a smaller goal like a month. Then when she made it to the month to celebrate with friends or do something special for herself. I told her after she makes the month add on another month. I told her to keep celebrating the goal she reaches and to keep adding on time until she can stop injuring without a goal. I told her to also try to find healthier coping techniques. She said she’s tried many. I encouraged her to keep trying. I encouraged her by telling her, “You can stop injuring. Don’t give up.”

God put me at that event where I happened to have lunch with this woman who I could reach out to give encouragement and advice. I gave her my business card with my blog address on it and suggested she check it out. I’m hoping I gave her another alternative to try and encouragement to keep fighting.

     I’m a writer I go to workshops and conferences and I read books to enhance my writing. Workshops are taught by authors who each have different techniques. Writers must sift through the different techniques until they find the one that works best for them. It’s the same with mental illness strugglers: they need to go to a therapist and hear from other strugglers to find different coping techniques that will work for them. If you have reached recovery and you meet someone who is struggling, don’t be afraid to reach out. Share with the person what has helped you. It will give them a new technique to try that may be the one that works. Use your experiences to help others.

I don’t know if my advice will help the woman I had lunch with, but I feel like God gave me that opportunity to reach out to her. If anything, I hope I encouraged her. It’s the same with this blog. I give lots of tips in my post and they may help you or they may just encourage you to fight. Reaching out to you in this post and to others in person keeps me standing in the light of God’s plan.

I could lay out statics about how many live after cancer because they got a mammogram. I could tell you about how many die because they never got one, but I won’t. No one likes the yearly test. Who would? You are made to take off your shirt and bra while they put your breast in a machine. The machine squishes you while you stand completely still. It’s uncomfortable. Many don’t even bother with the mammogram. Some say they don’t have the time, others say they don’t want to know what it will find. Getting the yearly test done can catch cancer in the early stages and save your life. It saved mine.

 In April of 2018 I had my yearly mammogram done. A day or so afterwards they called to tell me they found something. I burst in tears and called my husband. The next step was a biopsy. Sure, it was a long uncomfortable process, but necessary. The process took two hours. The hardest part was waiting for the results. I waited a week to be told I have a mass and some calcification with cancer. They asked me what surgeon I’d like to see, and the tears filled my eyes.

It seems like an awful process, but without a mammogram I would have never known I had cancer. Without a simple, uncomfortable test, the cancer could have grown and spread. It could have spread into different parts of my body. I don’t know about you, but the thought of an awful disease using my body as a place to fester is even scarier than knowing I have cancer. My cancer was found because of the test and it’s in stage 0 and 1, the earliest stages.

I met with a surgeon who explained cancer to my husband and me. Much of what he told me was overwhelming and hard to remember, but what I did remember was I had a cancer that can be spread by estrogen. I was only 44. I had a few years before menopause so that meant I had years where estrogen could spread the cancer. If I didn’t get the test by the time I found out the mass could have grown and the cancer could have spread. Spread to my other breast, to my bones, lungs and who knows where else. Without a mammogram I would have found out by becoming sick. By then it might have been too late to treat it. Since I got a mammogram and found it early I didn’t have to have chemotherapy instead I have to take a pill to block my estrogen.

I also got gene testing done and found out I have a gene mutation called BRCA 2. This causes breast, ovarian, prostate and skin cancer. I had to decide to have my breasts, my ovaries and tubes removed. Since I have the gene and it can be passed through the family. I can save my family members from getting cancer by educating them about the gene and they can take extra precautions and get tested. By knowing I can hopefully save a family member from getting cancer or give them a chance to catch it sooner.

Yes, cancer is a scary disease, but if caught early enough it is treatable. Don’t skip the yearly mammogram. For your sake and your family’s sake get that uncomfortable test done. If you value your life and want to live a long life, you’ll take care of yourself and do those yearly mammograms. The annoying tests weren’t made just to torture you, they have a purpose. A purpose to find an awful disease before it becomes out of control. There is a chance you may never get cancer, but it always a good idea to keep a watchful eye.

For me a mammogram saved my life. I am now four years cancer free and proud of it. I stand in the light of recovery as a survivor.

I’m going through a medication change for my gastro reflux which has been difficult. Due to that I didn’t write a blog post this week. I’ll be sure to write one next week.

When I married my husband, I moved away from the town of Ripley where I grew up into a suburb of Erie. I was more than glad to move out of the town I was bullied in. My parents still live in my hometown, and I only go there to see them. Otherwise, I have had little to do with Ripley. When Ripley’s librarian messaged me to speak and sign books at their author night, I was apprehensive. Would some of the people who bullied me show up? Would anyone even show up?

When I got the message about talking in Ripley, I called my mom. I told her my fears and she encouraged me to do the author night. She said, “You need to put the past behind you and show them how far you have come.”

I thought about how they said I couldn’t read, and yet I wrote a book. They were wrong about me, and I needed to return to my hometown and let my light shine. I also felt Ripley was the perfect places to talk about bullying and the damage it does to the victim. I messaged the librarian and agreed to do the talk and book signing. she was thrilled.

Speaking up against bullying is very important to me. For my book launch party, I thought about my speech and thought about what I would say, but I didn’t plan anything out. I spoke from my heart and everyone at the party was impressed. I figured this method would also work for the author night. The only problem is when I tried to think about what I would say, my mind went blank. I kept thinking about what it would be like if I faced the bullies. If they read my book, would they even recognize themselves (I changed their names for privacy)? Would any of them ever apologize to me? Could I face them after all these years?

The night before the talk and book signing, I had problems with my acid reflux and was up most of the night. I didn’t get to sleep until 3:30 A.M. Then I had to get up at 7:30 to go to work. When I got to work, I was exhausted. My fellow employees kept asking me what was wrong. As I fought to keep my eyes open and do my job, I wondered how I would be able give a talk after work. There would be no time for a nap. Would I get up in front of everyone looking groggy and stumble over my words? Would I make a total fool out of myself?

By the time we arrived in Ripley after a half hour drive, my exhaustion faded and was replaced with nervousness and excitement. I set up my books on a table inside the library and talked to the librarian. It wasn’t long before people started showing up. A retired store manager from where I worked, a few people from a church I once attended, some people I hadn’t seen in a while, and others came wondering in.

A woman walked up to me and said, “Do you remember me?”

I replied, “No.”

The woman told me she was the Special Education aide who had helped me so much when I was in school. It had been years since I’d seen her and didn’t recognize her. I had written her a note about the book signing, but I didn’t know if she would come or not. Seeing her lifted my spirits even higher. Then another teacher whom helped me a lot in school and who I’ve kept in touch with over the years arrived. Then my parents snuck in and sat up front. I felt more confident than ever to stand in front of everyone and speak.

The librarian introduced me and then the words just flowed smoothly from my lips. I talked about the process of writing my book and then I talked about bullying. I told them that bullying happens in our schools, online, in our communities, in our workplaces, and even in our churches. I talked about how bullying is a from of abuse that causes wounds others can’t see. I talked about the damage it did to me, and I read a passage from my book where I was bullied in my back yard. Then I opened it up to questions. Everyone had lots to ask.

I had woodburned leather bracelets that say, “Stop Bullying.” I urged them to stand with me against bullying by buying a bracelet for five dollars. Afterwards they came to buy bracelets and books. I signed the books while I talked to them. Many told me I spoke like a professional and were surprised that I hadn’t planned out my speech. I felt exhilarated. I couldn’t have been prouder of myself.

Bullying may never stop, but if I can help bring awareness to the harm it causes and save other children and adults from suffering like I did, then I will promote my book and speak about bullying wherever and whenever I can. We need to stand together to fight against bullying. Words and actions do hurt. Bullying is peer abuse and can be verbal or physical. Children and even adults suffer with mental health problems, commit suicide, turn to alcohol, and much more due to this abuse. If we stand up together, we can save children and adults from suffering its wrath.

Making my dream come true by publishing a book and speaking out against bullying helps me shine within the light of recovery.

You can order your copy of my book on the home page of this site. Just click on the picture of my book and it will take you to Amazon to order it.

https://www.goerie.com/story/news/local/2022/09/08/lawrence-park-author-aimee-eddy-recounts-overcoming-bullying-memoir/65419959007/

Bullying is a big problem in our society. It does a lot of damage to the victim of bullying. It leads to mental health problems, suicide, alcohol abuse, and much more. Bullying can be physical or mental abuse, and it happens in our schools, our communities, our workplaces, and even in churches. Many victims of bullying suffer in silence. They fear the consequences of telling others what is happening to them. The problem is their silence can be devastating. It’s important to communicate with someone you trust and to know you can’t fight and suffer alone.

When I was bullied in school, I told my parents about some of the things I was going through, but not everything. I kept a lot to myself and I hid from them my declining mental health. My mom went to my school a lot arguing with the teachers and principals who would not help me. She never knew how horrible some of the teachers treated me. She would have fought harder for me if she knew everything.

Each day I went through school being put down, and the bullying didn’t stop at school. Some kids called me names and threw rocks at me in my own yard. I struggled with self-defeating thoughts, tormenting nightmares, and inner anguish. I tried to deal with it on my own, but as the years went on it took its toll on me. In time my silence became deafening, but my inner thoughts became out of control. My thoughts were like voices in my head, one telling me how awful I was, and the other one telling me I was a good person. My thoughts fought until the negative ones won, and I slipped down that black hole.

 Now that I’m an adult I look back at how much I kept to myself and I regret it. If only I had talked more to my parents, maybe they could have helped me fight the bullies and get me help for my mental health. Maybe if I hadn’t tried to deal with the bullying and mental illness on my own, I wouldn’t have suffered for so long. My parents could have gotten me help sooner. There is a lot of maybes, but the most important thing is what I have learned. I learned that communication is very important.

When I was being bullied and when my mental illness became overwhelming, I felt like I was all alone. It seemed like no one would ever like me or understand me. In school I just wanted to be accepted for who I was. I didn’t want to be popular, but liked. My classmates never took the time to get to know me and to see me for the person I was. Instead, they judged me for having a learning disability. I took their abuse day in and out without talking about it with my parents or others who cared about me. My mind became my jail.

Talking about my feelings has never been easy for me. It was in high school I discovered I had the ability to write. I would spend endless hours writing out a story in a notebook. My inner pain bled out through my pen. My stories were dark. I wrote about dying and tragedies. I poured my feelings into my stories. If only I would have just written about my feelings and what I was going through and let my parents read them.

I now know that communication about what is happening to me and inside me is very important. As an adult I went to a therapist who knew I am a writer. My homework for my therapy sessions was to write down my feelings and at our sessions we would discuss what I wrote. This worked well. By doing this she helped me find a way to deal with my illness, she taught me how to change my negative thinking, and she taught me coping techniques. I reached recovery because I was able to use this type of communication with my therapist.

If you’re being bullied or struggling with mental illness, don’t do it in silence. Communicate what is happening to you in the best way you know how. If you’re not good at talking, then put your feelings down on paper. Maybe you don’t have a close family or many friends who will listen, so you feel like there isn’t someone you can talk to. If this is the case then find someone you can trust like a teacher, a nice co-worker, a therapist, a manager, a pastor, a priest, and so on. Never suffer alone. Talk to someone you can trust or write it in a letter.

I have recently told the world what I went through in my memoir Escape to the Garage: Family Love Overcomes Bullying and it was healing. Now I have a support system that I talk, text, or write letters to when I’m struggling. I no longer suffer in silence. Because I now communicate what I feel and what I go through, I stand in the light of recovery stronger than ever.