Unboxing

The days seem to be rolling into each other. I don’t know when night and day are. I’m totally out of rhythm and out of alignment with the world. It’s almost better this way, I think. I’m really lonely, though.

I don’t think I’ve seen another human in a week or so. I talked to my dad, which was, of course, painful. But other than that—and I’m not sure we can even count the last time I went out, because I was in the car the whole time—I’ve just kind of ceased to exist.

I should try to meet up with someone at some point, just to get out of the house. Maybe I should have taken rock and roll lawyer up on his fuck buddy offer.

I’m just not doing okay. Like, it’s been bad, but it feels somewhat worse. The loneliness and not having anyone to talk to—I think it is worse because I don’t even want to talk to anyone. Like, why?

That is concerning me. I’m withdrawing more, not less. Having two guys in a row decide I wasn’t worth dating did not help. That was kind of a turning point, I think. I don’t know.

I’ve been busy with the book. I have this fear I’m going to spend all this fucking money and people are going to make fun of me and tell me I’m wrong. Daydreams about Wolfson snickering. Nobody is going to take it seriously.

No one ever takes me seriously.

I don’t know. I’m proud of the work, but I doubt it will be taken seriously. Nobody is going to read it. I’m trying to figure that out—how to keep it from being dismissed. I am thinking about setting up an unboxing kind of deal with it. Very pretty. Tissue paper and shiny seals. Branding on the box with the question “Are you trauma-informed?”

I’m looking at small swag to put in the box, like a bookmark and a tote bag. You know, I grew up watching PBS. One really cute idea I had was a lens cloth that says, “You can see the case clearly if you’re trauma-informed.” Right, kind of cute?

But then does it become too sales-pitchy? I’m not selling anything—just free knowledge.

I came up with the idea of hand-numbering the books and telling them to register the book on the website. It brings them to the website, even if they don’t crack open the book—they look at the classes. Maybe leave a donation for the book.

This is expensive. The books, printed and shipped to me, are like $15 a book. Shipping is around $10 to get it to them, which is fucking ridiculous. Plus, boxes are $1 apiece, and then packaging—which, with swag, is like $3. So almost $30 per book I’m shipping out.

I’m hoping to send 10 a month. So that’s $300/month, plus $30 x 2 for the monthly websites.

I don’t have an extra $400/month. I don’t even have a job. What the fuck am I thinking? I can’t afford this.

I’m hoping if I do some email marketing and make it optional to pay for the classes or the book, someone will feel bad and pay for it. But I need to get them to the website. So, email marketing—which, of course, costs money. Email lists and whatnot.

I suppose I could probably figure out the email list manually. Just go to the bar website. Email is there for Nevada, at least. It’s somewhere to start, at least.

But I can offer the courses for like $50 or something, and if I get a few of those a month, I’m halfway to buying another printing of the book.

The problem is I need to find a real fucking job. I suppose that means I would have to get out of bed. I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I may just be deluding myself to think that this is real work I’m doing right now and it’s going to change at least someone’s world or worldview.

I always thought that you speak up and you do what needs to be done to change the ills of the world when you see them. Do what you can do. I can sit in bed and write a 500-page book. But who the fuck reads books anymore?