Great big exciting terrifying news.

in Random Crap

Last week I got lots of emails from people inside the book industry congratulating me on news that they probably were very confused that I wasn’t talking about, because when “normal” people sign a book deal they’ve been working on forever they immediately announce it everywhere BECAUSE IT’S SO EXCITING.

From Publisher’s Weekly Magazine a week ago:

And it is exciting because I’m finally working on a new book and I’m so thrilled about it and I can’t wait for you to read it! (Especially since I’m not finished writing it yet so if you are reading it that will mean I’m done writing and second-guessing and re-writing and all the lonely, terrible and wonderful work that comes along with creating.)

But…there’s always a “but”…isn’t there? When it came time to announce it last week I was in the middle of a really deep depression. I felt numb and exhausted and all of the joy I had about sharing this new creation was muffled under the weight of depression. And every time I tried to write something about the book I felt like I was pretending to be happy about something that I genuinely am ecstatic about but that I couldn’t feel properly, and the cognitive dissonance and guilt of being miserable while I should have been thrilled was making it even worse.

Announcing a book deal when it first gets press is important, because it can help steamroll excitement and get attention, but I didn’t want to pretend to be happy when I was absolutely not myself so I reached out to my editor and agent and told them I was struggling and that I didn’t think I could announce it properly the way it deserved that week, and they told me I was contractually obligated to be happy, that they were disappointed in me, and that they would hate me forever if I didn’t follow the exact formula for announcing a book, and that I had ruined both Christmas and Hanukkah.

Wait…no. That was just what my depression was telling me they would say. Instead they said that it was no big deal at all, and that they had my back, and that they were so glad I felt comfortable sharing, and that it could absolutely wait until I was myself again.

And today I am. Or at least, I’m about 70% of normal, but when you only have 70% to give and you give 70% you gave 100%. This is how mental illness math works. Hence, this strange post that is a week late but is weirdly fitting because the book that I’m writing is about all of the hacks and tools and stories that I’ve learned (and keep learning) that keep me going even when my brain tries to get the best of me.

I’m incredibly lucky to have a community of people around me who understand and who support me (if you’re reading this you are a part of that community) and I am forever reminded that people understand more that we expect them too, that the lies depression tells us are not to be believed, and that it’s okay to follow your own path…even if it looks strange to everyone else around you who may never understand the twisted but unique courses that our diverse brains lead us through.

So this is a tip from me to you in honor of the book that’s coming:

Trust that people care more than you think.

Trust that things will work out eventually, even if your timeline looks different from everyone elses.

Trust that being honest about your vulnerabilities is scary, but it gives others the opportunity to be vulnerable with theirs.

Trust that people will show up for you when you’re ready.

Trust that the lies depression tells you are lies.

That actually ended up being 5 tips. Sorry. My ADHD meds just kicked in. And suddenly the post I struggled to write even a sentence of last week is way too long and rambly.

But I’ll take it.

PS. Spellcheck is telling me “rambly” is not a word, because apparently spellcheck has never read my work before.

PPS. There’s been a wordpress glitch that kept people from commenting but I saw a lot of people saying that it’s fixed for them now and they can finally comment again. If you’re still having a problem, email me with details.

135 thoughts on “Great big exciting terrifying news.”

Read comments below or add one.

  9. I’m so excited!!! When does it come out? What’s it called? Ahhhh I need more details.

  10. You are fabulous. And so caring that you even give us tips for surviving our own lying depression, even as you are emerging from yours. You are truly a gift, and I am thankful.

  11. Congratulations! And yay for getting to 70%, that is also a victory worth celebrating ❤️

  12. Congrats. And I can’t wait until the book is ready and released so that I can buy it and read it.

  13. Yay! so excited about a new book no matter when it’s announced and/or finished!!!

  14. Congratulations – so proud of you and so grateful to be reminded that we can do amazingly wonderful things in life, even when our pathway to making them happen is a bit twisty and we occasionally need to pull off into a rest area to regroup for a bit.

  15. Well this just took my 70% to a solid 80%! I am so happy for you and all of us! Congratulations!

  17. That’s fantastic news, especially tge part about being 70%. Thank you for being so honest and letting us know we can be honest, too.

  19. This world is a far better place with you in it. Period. Look at it this way. No one gives a rat’s ass what I have to say. Lots of us are out here hanging onto your every word! And your words help so many of us. That’s something. It’s a lot, really. All my best to you! Congratulations!

  20. That is awesome news on all fronts, Jenny! I can’t wait to read it when you’re done writing it—whenever that may be!!

  21. Waving hello from 40%
    Thank you for these tips, really need them and writing them in my journal, can’t wait for the book. 💜

  24. It seems that “these times” will often shout into my thoughts “When will there be Good news?” Thanks for sharing All that is you, looking forward to “Beautiful Hacks….”

    sallyb

  26. I’m so happy you are ready to be excited about your new book! I can’t wait to read it!
    Many of your commenters comments were not being posted correctly, so you can rest assured that many intended comments didn’t reach your blog, but we are silently behind you and with you 200%!
    Even if some of us are at 50% or lower ourselves.
    Hurray for you for feeling better and bringing us joy and support for your community of fellow strugglers!
    Carry onwards…

  28. This book sounds perfect for me and gives me something to look forward to, which is much needed these days. Congrats!!

  29. Eeee!! I am so very excited for a new Jenny Lawson book! Congratulations on the book purchase. “Mental illness lies” is an important lesson I learned from reading your writing years ago and a mantra I still use whenever the brain weasels take hold. Passed it on to my kid for their brain weasels too.

  30. Congratulations!!!! I needed to see this right now. I’m struggling with my own writing issues and feeling like nothing I’ve done so far matters. You have no idea how much you mean to all of us who follow your rambly posts! (Take that spellcheck!)

  31. I have been thinking for awhile that I wish Jenny Lawson had a new book. But I read this blog and I know you’ve been struggling and so I accepted that it would be a bit before you wrote another one. I am very excited to hear of the new book. And I’ll be very excited at that future date when I get read and/or listen to it. And I like to believe I found access to a reliable time machine and went back and told myself to be excited (without telling myself why so I don’t mess up reality) last week at the publisher’s announcement. Thank you. I hope this is the depression gives you a good long break but if not then always believe that it will pass.

  32. Congratulations! This is so awesome!! I am so excited for this!
    It’s so nice that the cats and Dorothy Barker are going to help you write another book.
    ps- Spellcheck is an a-hole. “rambly” is a word. At least, I’m sure it is. hahahsocgr

  33. I’m so fumocking jealous right now; writing through everything as you do. Even if it doesn’t come out until 2028, you will have accomplished something glorious. I, on the other hand, will still be trying to salvage something from the toxic relationship with my computer. Currently, all I get from her is “Back off mister, right now!” or “Um, personal boundaries?!” and all that.

  35. “I was somewhere around Tip #1, on the edge of the desert, when the Vyvanse began to take hold…”

    Congratulations & Huzzahs. Your work has been a welcoming constant for…I can’t remember how long, someone e-mailed me a link to something you posted about…maybe ADHD or depression or …? with a note like “okay, she’s a mommy blogger BUT she speaks in crazy Texan like you ” … and yesterday I drove past a giant metal chicken and said “Beyonce!” out loud just like always.

    Thanks in advance for another great book and take good care of yourself & relax❤️

  40. I’m literally crying in the Target Starbucks right now because I needed these tips. And I can’t wait to read this book because it feels like it’s written for me.

    Thank you, Jenny, for always being authentically you.

  41. Congratulations Jenny. Can hardly wait to read your next book. I think you are wonderful!!!!

  44. Congrats to you on the new book, been loving your blog for some time. It inspires and I love the lack of thank god) toxic cheeriness. I’ll get me to a library soon.
    Posted on FB “Buy her book or I die (a little inside). You did the work. You made it. xx

  46. PS No, I am definitely *not* writhing with jealousy. Whomever said that is a big liar 😉
    When I relax my heart, head, etc., I know you are kindred spirt with awesome news I can use (and have hungered for, for years. Congrats, Jenny. Plus funny. What’s not to love about that. xx

  48. Excellent achievement!
    If rambly is not a word it needs to be -i could get rambly on why but will just save everyone the word forest i would provide.
    -Butterpants

  50. Is it weird that I already want to purchase a signed copy of a book that hasn’t even been finished yet? Or that I don’t care how long it takes to be published as long as I get a copy as soon as I can? I am so very excited for you, Jenny!

  51. I just couldn’t be happier for you. About the book, and about the 70% day, and about your wonderful people. Thank you for lighting your own winding way. 💜

  53. Congratulations on the new book! I can hardly wait until it comes out! And my Nowhere Book Store review t shirt came today and it’s as amazing as I hoped it would be! Keep safe and well. We all love and need you!

  54. Big congrats to you, Jenny, and to your agent, Neehti Madan! An auction is very exciting!
    PS I still can’t comment from my WP site…

  55. Congratulations, Jenny!!! I’m so glad you took care of yourself while you were depressed and waited until you felt better to share this wonderful news! I’m so excited that you’re writing a new book, and I can’t wait to read it!

  58. Auntie say: “Are you getting regular gentle exercise and Texas sunshine?? It helps.”

    And, *love* your million/billion leaves! Could enlarge into a wall-size decal-type mural. Or computer-die-cut balsa shadow-hanging. Or, for the truly obsessive, a pieced quilt. It’s a franchise!

  59. Thanks for those awesome reminders. I’m 4 months out from losing my husband and probably have some situational depression thrown in along the way for kicks and grins, as if all the other things involved weren’t enough.

    70% or whatever percent is sometimes the best we have for the moment, and that IS ok.

  60. here’s hoping that the glitch is fixed and my comment will show up………….Jenny I am so glad to hear there will be another book. I had feared you’d stopped making books, and glad you have not stopped, and I wish you so much good energy for writing. Thanks for being you.

  62. WOW THE GLITCVH IS FIXED! I LOVE YOU JENNY. THANK YOU FOR WRITING ANOTHER BOOK. CAN’T WAIT TO SEE IT. SENDING YOU ALL GOOD LOVE AND ENERGY.

  64. So happy for you, and I hope the auction was high stakes with a fast talking auctioneer!

  66. Is it 2025 yet?
    I’ll pre-order mine right now this very very minute. I can totally Venmo you $1.37 to hold one for me. Fine. I’ll go as high as $1.52. Seriously though, so looking forward to this. Be good to you during the process. Your peeps are here for you! Like literally.

  67. Omg, an auction??
    So, people were literally fighting about who got to publish you book!!!!

  68. I’ll buy your book. I very much need to believe what you’ll put in it.

    And, good job on landing that contract! You must have done good for this to happen. So good that being 70% was enough.

    Much love.

  69. People do genuinely care. They care about you. They care about me. They care about others. Brain weasels lie and get better at it when we get better at recognizing them.

    Please know, (because I can’t say never doubt, because you can’t help it) that you’re open, honest sharing is doing so much good for so many people. If it gives one person a five minute break or gets them to step back from the proverbial ledge, it’s all a success. Your words have already done that. You win.

    And so do we.

  72. Such good news, about another book coming out!
    Remember we are all rooting for you and your wonderful writing!
    Tell those brain weasels to eff off 🙂

  73. Dear Jenny – my daughter introduced me to you several years ago. I cannot tell you how much I have learned about depression because of your posts. I know, pesonally, that all the virtual hugs in the world will not lift you (or anyone) out of depression but it helps to know, when ‘you’re back’, that the hugs were there. So consider this a virtual hug to take out and use when you can. Many thanks.

  75. Jenny, I am so thrilled for you to have another book coming out! Or at least as thrilled as I can be, because I have the whole depression thing in top gear right now. But I still love you and the way you make me know that it’s not my fault.❤️

  76. Congratulations on the new book book! I look forward to reading it when it comes out. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better!

  77. “Rambly” is absolutely a word, I use it all the time.

    I’m super excited to get a new book from you! In whatever time is right.

  79. I am so excited for your new books. Your books have helped me understand me, a person with Anxiety, Depression, too many Autoimmune disease, PMPS, Cancer Survivor, and wildly “insane”. You have helped me understand that I do belong on this Earth. Also, I capitalize too many words! I can’t wait for you to teach me more. I like to pretend we are friends, because we are so much alike. Congratulations!

  81. Furiously happy about the book. Thanks for the reminder to add “rambly” to my dictionary.

  82. Rambly = family. That’s what my tablet changed it to when I typed it. And it makes sense. Because we are a family. Congratulations!!!!

  83. This is such great news!!! I am 200% excited and happy about this so this adds 70 more to your 70 making you 140% happy and excited which is way above the 100% expected, so you are actually overachieving at your excitedness and happiness – way to go!!! Seriously, I am beyond thrilled and will be anxiously awaiting the new book – your writings, your drawings, your instragram, twitter and blog posts bring me such joy and your audiobooks are my go to when I am feeling particularly anxious or spiraling down a rabbit hole of despair about all the injustices of the world. I listen for just a few minutes and start feeling better and am laughing again – I will be forever grateful to you for that! I only wish I was closer to your bookstore so I could possibly meet you but that will have to wait. Congratulations and much love always!

  84. Pingback: Nice massive thrilling terrifying information. – The Bloggess - Mr. Funny Guy

  85. If 70% is all you can give, then 70% is more than enough. I look forward to reading your new book. Congrats!

  86. OMG I’m so excited! I’m already planning your book tour and you’re stopping in my area. I can feel it! I’m so excited for you! This is great news. YAY Jenny

  88. Congrats! While reading ur post I was ready to go fight your agent, actually felt the adrenaline start pumping! I was relieved it was just ur depression talking. I’ll come and fight that too! Thanks for the laughs, u always make me laugh.

  89. So… A really good baseball player I think hits a little over 30% of their balls (tho I may have made up that statistic as I’m not a baseball person) so your 70% is like TWO pro baseball players. That should be worth a lot. Congrats!

  90. (((Jenny))) We love you no matter how much you’re able to give. Whenever it’s written, I will gladly read! <3

  91. Excellent, wonderful, stupendously fantastic news! I cannot wait to pre-order your book because that will mean that you are done and that very soon I will be able to hold it and read it and learn all the things from someone who means a great deal to me and a human and as a writer. (Rambly enough?) And you are absolutely correct that when you have 70% to give and you give 70% that is 100% – the math checks! Sending love and light and positive energy to you as you embark on this new project! ❤️

  92. “I’m about 70% of normal, but when you only have 70% to give and you give 70% you gave 100%. This is how mental illness math works.” I LOVE THIS!!! This makes so much more sense to me than Girl Math. Hooray for mental illness math! (and for your new book!!!)

  94. Congratulations 🥳 also I think it is better that it was delayed because now we don’t have to wait as long for it to go
    E out so that is a total plus!!!

  95. Spell check is totally wrong. “Rambly” is definitely a word! Thank you for being you. For putting words to something some of us feel but cannot express. I will definitely wait patiently for the next book…because the wait is always worth it.

  97. Congratulations. Awesome news!
    But one short question, will there ever be a german Translation of your last book “Broken”? I am from German and desperately waiting for a german Translation to share with my boyfriend (I recorded every book of you for him, so he can hear it on his way to work).

  98. Oh my goodness – so excited about you writing a new book. Congratulations 🥳 glad you are starting to find some peace and allowing yourself some grace when things get hard. Depression does that. Someone once told me “ doing hard things is hard “ and you are doing the hard thing! Can’t wait.

  101. I am so appreciative of you-your last book got me thru the pandemic. So happy to hear there is another one coming. And be as rambly as you need. Screw Autocorrect. It never gets it right.

  103. Congrats!!! Being vulnerable is so flipping scary. I generally only have 70% to give because of fibromyalgia & migraines so I get it! When I mention it, people get weird sometimes. I don’t go around telling everyone- that would be odd. I just think society tells us to work through pain & be strong. As if being real isn’t being strong & showing my soft belly like a dog.

  105. I’m so happy for you! Congratulations on your new book deal! I’m also happy for me too, since I’m getting a new Jenny book to read!

  106. Congrats! Your quote “I’m about 70% of normal, but when you only have 70% to give and you give 70% you gave 100%” just struck me. I 100% needed to hear that today. Thank you.

  108. Oh Jenny! When reading your news I started crying with happiness! I can’t wait to read it! I hope and pray that I can accept a trip from my husband to go to San Antonio to get an autographed copy (I couldn’t accept his last offer to taken an overnight trip to SA for your last book signing/fun giveaway…). I’m also happy that you’re at 70% because this announcement as increased my percentage too! I love you!

  110. Wow! You probably don’t realize it because depression is a fucking liar and diverts any thing positive , but you are amazing!!!! Thank you for continuing to share with us! <3

  111. Congratulations, Jenny! A new book from you is cause for celebration. Thank you for hanging in there and understanding that we understand. When 70% is all I can manage, I don’t have to feel guilty or alone.

  112. You’re awesome, Jenny! You keep us all going and sane. I appreciate you every day. 🙂

  113. You are a gift to everyone. Being able to describe what happens in your brain is an amazing revelation to everyone, both to those who don’t understand because they don’t experience it themselves and to those who do but don’t know how to voice it. Congratulations on your new book!

  114. ‘Rambly’ is totally a word, but then so is ‘Squirly’ and the NYT Letterboxed puzzle wouldn’t accept that today either. It’s all Tom’s fault.

    (Tom is the person in the office who I caught Covid off a couple of weeks ago. I am blaming him for everything that goes wrong for me for at least another ten days.)

  115. “Trust that people will show up for you when you’re ready.”

    Post that where you can see it every day. Truth over depression’s lies.

  117. So proud of you for doing what you can when you can. I know how crappy anxiety and depression can be. I’ve read half the amount of books I normally read in a year because I just don’t feel like it anymore. Turns out that’s a symptom of depression, joy. Congratulations on the new book. I sure hope you feel up to a signing, so that I can finally meet you.

  118. I can’t wait to read it. I am revising my first memoir and you’ve inspired me throughout.

  119. Why did you stop helping kids for Christmas? JG went from amazing, to eh, to nothing. Now more than ever all of us broke people could use the help 🙂

    (I don’t know who told you that. We’re doing it again this year. I just wait until closer to xmas when I have more energy. 🙂 ~ Jenny)

  121. Dear Jenny,

    Rambly is how we all get to the point of our sorrows and our joys!

    Thank you again for your stories. I will say this again: if my daughter and I had read your stories before she opted out, we’d be in a different place today; she’d be home for Christmas.
    Your words are your power to help everyone, but NO pressure, this world is crazy. You are not the problem; you are the solution.

    I grew up on John Irving novels, and in ‘Hotel New Hampshire’ one great bit was “Keep passing the open windows”. Another was “Sorrow Floats”. (“Sorrow” was taxidermied at the time)

    You taught me as a Mother to walk into, rather than away from, my child’s world. You taught me the real way to love.

    Keep on going.

    Best to you always,
    Tamara Benson

  122. You know what is kind of a wonderful and weird thing that is true? Announcing a new book deal, for book that is still in development, both adds pressure to have the finished book meet some vaguely specific criteria of “good enough”-ness, AND relieves the author of having to try to meet those criteria because A) they are vague and non-specific, so no one can actually tell you that you aren’t meeting them, and B) you already have the book deal, so they have already agreed to receive what you produce.

    I know that B is not a precisely accurate depiction, but let’s roll with the figurative beauty of the idea, with all of its glitter and joy.

    And here is another thing that is true: one of the most lovely and rich and delightful and elevating experiences a person can have is to be able to look around the room and say, “Hey! Not only have I been through some of the things that people generally avoid discussing because they have internalized blame-shifted shame or a sense of deep wrongness that would be disastrous if spoken aloud, BUT, I also have some cool things to share about what helps me navigate them. Not saying they will—any or all—work for you, but the good news is that even the ones that don’t will expand your thinking and make it more possible to find the things that do.” It’s kind of like when someone asks me what I want for lunch, and I don’t have a clue, because there is WAY too big a set of possible options, so I can’t answer the question, but then someone *else* adds, “soup, or a sandwich?” and suddenly I can say, “Oh, I want sushi!” Limiting the universe of possible things to respond to makes it easier for connect with what works.

    If you think about it, they way that you write is sweetly unburdened by the ravages of the kinds of false encumbrances that come with declaring that one has The Authoritative View of a subject and The Right Way To Deal With It. I get a little bit queasy when I think about taking that stance about anything beyond a discussion of my preferences socks. I’m really clear about what I like in a sock.

    I think I have found a secret. It might be wrong. But, it might be right. I think that Authoritative and Absolute information is not especially useful, much less necessary. At least not most of the time. At least not most of the time when supporting someone’s efforts to make changes to their mental health. At least not most of the time when supporting someone’s efforts to make changes to their mental health, or to engage in any kind of create endeavor. So, basically, rarely. At least from my perspective.

    Of course, this perspective is particularly convenient, given that I am a therapist. I won’t deny it. But, it also seems to work, to be really really effective. At least for me.

    NOTE: this actually is going to come all the way around back to you and your writing. 🙂 Hang in there. Unless you gave up reading paragraphs ago, which no one sane could find fault with. I’m a contextual thinker and I use a lot of words.

    Here’s the thing. The very first day, at my very first job after grad school, was thrilling and terrifying. I was working at a methadone clinic (which also had Suboxone, but was still referred to as a methadone clinic—perhaps because it flows better). The first patient came into my very first office, and sat in the very first extra comfy patient chair in my very first office. I greeted her and asked her what she thought it was important for me to know or understand about her, along with an invitation to include also ask any questions she might have, or that might come up along the way. She began speaking. Her voice was quiet and her gaze was low and all of a sudden I heard a shriek inside of my mind: “Who the actual holy hell thought that putting me alone in a room with a patient seeking mental treatment was a good idea?!?!?!?!?” I asked the shriek to go hang out in my backpack and I would get to it later. It did, but not without some parting words.

    I continued to listen to the woman in the chair and I felt my heart responding to her shame and uneasiness, and the exhausting process of displaying oneself for evaluation by a stranger. She paused and I said, “This seems like a really difficult conversation to have. How about we take a break and some water and some deep breaths?” And she looked up, surprised, and nodded, and I went and got us bottles of water, and came back and asked her if she wanted to learn a way of breathing that helps me when I am in an intimidating situation and am worried that if I don’t say things exactly right, or if I say too much or too little, the universe will end. She stared at me and nodded her head. I taught her about how extending your exhale to make it as long as possible helps cut through anxiety and ungrounded panic really effectively. I showed her how I do it, which includes making an “ssssss” sound to slow down the exhale even more. Then we did it together for a couple of minutes. She said, “I really feel different. I mean, I thought what you were saying was crap, honestly, but I went along with it because I didn’t want to offend you. But, I actually feel… calmer… and less worried.” I laughed and told her that I thought exactly the same thing when a past therapist taught it to me.

    Then, because I’m a science nerd, I asked her if she wanted to know why it works and she said she did. So, I told her all about the sympathetic nervous system (fight/fight/freeze/collapse) and the parasympathetic nervous system (relaxed, present, able to take in new information and make sense of it. And then, I told her the pure magic, but physiological truth that inhales stimulate the sympathetic nervous system and exhales stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system.

    No. Really. Think about it. When something startles us, we tend to respond with a quick sharp intake of breath. When we encounter something that feels deeply soothing or relaxing, like getting into a perfect temperature bath, we tend to exhale, often with a word or phrase, “ahhhhhhhhhhh, that’s nice.”

    It’s not possible for both states to exist at exactly the same time, so when you’re in a moment of high activation or anxiety or (insert description of acute distress), an extended exhale disrupts the dominance of the sympathetic nervous system by activating the parasympathetic nervous system, and, voilà!

    It doesn’t mean that you can’t shift back to the sympathetic state, but if you keep disrupting it, the carryover will increase. And, actually, just a pro tip: if you practice this kind of breathing multiple times a day when you **aren’t** feeling stressed and anxious, you will reinforce the process when there isn’t a lot of competition, and this will make it even more effective when you use it during a moment of sympathetic activation. Just sayin’.

    Anyway, now that she was more present and relaxed and drinking her water, I said back to her the things that I thought I’d heard her say, including why they mattered to her. She looked surprised. “You really listened.” Yep. I really listened. Because that’s a huge part of doing my job well. “Really” listening. And, in order to do that, you can’t also be thinking about technique or some rote sequence of events. It makes you less present, less connected. That’s why I put the shriek in my backpack.

    The session drew to a close and we set our next appointment, and the woman left. I called a mentor who had been a therapist for thirty years. “Kathryn, how long were you in practice before felt like you weren’t flying by the seat of your pants anymore?” She said, “Hmm. I’ll let you know.” And that was when I learned that a big part of being a good therapist is being open and responsive. No manual would have suggested that I offer the woman a break, some water, a new way to breathe. No manual would have accounted for feeling flattered when she said that she was just being polite and thought what I was telling her was crap. *I* felt flattered because it meant that she felt safe enough to say something that was true, without censoring herself because of how I might react. That always feels like a big damn deal to me. Because why should she? I’m a stranger. And yet, the strange and wonderful alchemy of therapy was already starting, because she was willing to take that risk, and I wasn’t offended when she did.

    And that was the beginning of what I view as the transition between being a technician and applying a technique, to trusting myself to have internalized what I need to know to be an ethical and competent therapist, and letting myself be present the specific person in the specific moment. I began to understand why healing professions of kinds are often described as arts, or a blend of art and science. It’s that leap into the space between who and where I am, and who and where you are. And it’s ok when I get something wrong. It’s ok because I am present and responsive and we can identify the wrongness and resolve any disruption it evoked, refocus, and keep going.

    And after work, I opened my backpack and took the shriek on a walk and we considered the thing. The shriek agreed to sit back and observe and only demand attention when it noticed something going off the skids, or saw something important that I was missing. And that’s how we moved forward, the shriek and I. And the shriek told me, some weeks later, that it had revised its position. The shriek was still a bit weirded out about me being a therapist, but it was more along the lines of, “Who gets so lucky as to be allowed to be a companion during a difficult portion of someone else’s journey? What makes me so special or fortunate? People are sharing the intimate, harrowing, hilarious, perplexing, and insecure parts of themselves, their sacred secrets and undermining fears. With me. A total stranger.” It made me redouble my conscious commitment to honoring the enormity of that courage. It made me feel connected to what is arguably the most real and dynamic part of therapy: that there is a real relationship between the therapist and the client. We each bring ourselves to our sessions. Figuratively, and sometimes literally, we are side by side, looking at a collection of items spread on the table in front of us, seeing how we can make sense of them, arrange them in new ways, learn something about the nuanced language of the self. It’s the partnership that makes it work. At least in my experience.

    So, it seems to me that the very first time a person is writing a book and it’s accepted for publication there is likely some resonant experience of, “Oh my GOD! Who thought paying ME for a book was a good idea?!?!?!?!?” And hilarity ensues. (Well, maybe not right away or in every moment.). And then there is this seat of the pants process of offering and response and revision of the offering and moments of alignment and moments of disconnection, and then, somehow, there is a book. And it is printed and distributed.

    Then, if the writer is fortunate enough to find an audience, there are more books. An one might think that they get easier. It’s hard to assess the degree to which that is, or isn’t, so. Some things might feel more familiar, which conveys a kind of ease, maybe. But, if the book is a thing that is about oneself. If it is intimate and includes things that are on the growth edge and who knows where they will be by the time the book is published? If the words the author uses are selected with the knowledge that no matter how accurately and carefully tuned they are, what will happen within the minds and hearts of the people receiving them is anyone’s guess. Plus, this time, there are expectations. Someone liked the previous book. They want to read more. Do they want more of the same? How much difference will be tolerated? Will they feel betrayed if focus or healthiness or perspective have changed significantly? Do they need the author to be frozen in time?

    Seems pretty nerve wracking from that point of view. But, here’s the thing: the writing is still a singular process experienced and expressed through a singular mind. And heart. The owner of said mind and heart are real, actual, human beings. And even with plenty of humor—for the pleasure and joy of it, for the sanctity of it, for the relief of it—the reality of Vulnerability remains perched stolidly and unavoidably in the middle of the process.

    And, what if how the author is feeling on some arbitrary date is out of sync with the status of the mechanical process? As you’ve shared, that brings its own share of challenge. You make the choice to speak what is real for you, no matter what depression or any insecure or uncertain part fears. That takes some big ol’ girl balls. Ovaries? Never mind. It takes courage and bravery and a decision to walk in the light of authenticity, even at the risk of being inconvenient. And every time you do it, it feels new. But, over time, as you notice the world not actually ceasing to revolve on its access when you do it, the *idea* of doing it becomes less imposing. And you are reminded, over and over, that the authenticity is the key to a kind of mental health that is bigger than depression, or anxiety, or trauma, or physiology. It isn’t that you have transcended the nuts and bolts of existence. It’s that you bring yourself into the center of it and name what is. And you build enough experience to know that no matter how compelling the countering thoughts and feelings are, they are operating on faulty assumptions—like the idea that they are more true than you. And they aren’t. Even when they are very convincing.

    In one of your books, you talked about writing letters to your depressed self, to help you hang on when the depression filter is threatening to blot out any other idea. And even if you found them dubious when you read them during depressive lows, there was something about the fact of them that helped. Even if you couldn’t feel it, you allowed you to support you, to offer love, and hope, and solace—or even just the idea that such things could possibly exist. You told the shrieking, dooming, apathetic, passionate voices of depression to get into your backpack. And sometimes, some of them did. And do. And, so far, enough of them do that you make it through. And because you do it in your own, unique, intricate and nuanced way, you make the leap from living life by a pre-designed set of someone else’s instructions, and you swim in the infinite waters of the the art of being you being alive.

    And, you continue to offer what you encounter, what helps, how you make sense of things. You write another book. You invite your readers to seek their own resonance in the things you share, or to try on some of the things that have helped you. That continue to help you. And people read them and try them and share their results, or share things that are helpful to them. And within the community of trust and shared experience and vulnerability, something grows. It’s a garden. Or a field of new stars in space. Or a candy aisle in October. Lots of shapes and colors and places. And somehow, through the alchemy of human beings connecting, and listening, and hearing, and sharing, the peculiar isolation and alienation of individual minds in distress is less alone. And then, over time, others come to know that resisting, fighting, quelling, and vanquishing may have their advantages, but, over the length of a lifetime, learning how to live with what is leads to a richness that cannot be fully realized by those who haven’t lived through it. And it’s important. Because it’s part of the story of you. And nothing in the story of you is worthless. If it was, it wouldn’t be there. Just the fact of experiencing a thing gives it value.

    In case you didn’t know it, one of your superpowers is Doing Things Because They Are What You Decide To Do In A Given Moment And It Really Doesn’t Matter If Someone Else Would Do Them Or Even If You Would Make The Same Decision On A Different Day Because You DO Get To Choose And Then To Choose Again And No One Can Claim To Be Able To Do A Better Job Than You Of Choosing For You Because You Are The World’s Leading Expert On You.

    And that’s why I am glad you are writing another book.

    Love,
    Alice

    P.S. I wrote this in chunks between appointments and haven’t gone back to see if it makes any kind of sense as a whole thing. And I’m not going to, because then I would end up feeling self-conscious or wondering how I could put something better, when, in fact, I meant to write like talking instead of like playing chess with someone who knows how to play chess well. And, I probably could apologize but it would be a lie. I don’t like to lie. So, I won’t apologize. I wrote it off the top of my head. So be it. And this P.S. is self-conscious enough for the whole thing, don’t you think?

    (I love this. ~ Jenny)

  123. Oh, dear god. AXIS. Plus you are one human being. Not multiple human beings. At least I think so. I did re-read AFTER sending, evidently.

  124. Congratulations! That is the best news any writer can share! So happy for you and also happy that you’re feeling more like yourself again… even if it’s 70-ish% To your point, there’s some comfort in this math, even when it’s wonky and feeling broken.

  126. Jenny and Alice R both,
    I needed this. Thank you both for sharing.

    Jenny I have many quotes of yours saved in a file I keep for dark times.

    Alice yours has been added.

    The lying bastard stole someone from my family this week and I came here for help carrying on. You gave it.

    Thank you.
    MaryHS

  127. 70%???? After a deep depression? Jenny, you are a f*ing rock star! Next time Depression lies and tells you that you’ll never feel better, you just tell that big ol’ doodyhead, “Bullpucky! I bet I can get to 72% next time!” Love you, love your writings, love your openness and vulnerability, and love how frequently you make me say, “Huh. I’m not the only one with the crazy thoughts and the wonky stuff?”

  129. I am so so so excited for this and I also know exactly what you mean when you talk about not feeling excited when it’s what you should be feeling. I wrote a blog post a few years back about this very thing: my horrible reaction to very good news. It’s called “A True Story About Emotional Overstimulation AKA When Happy News Makes You Want To Puke. There really is such thing as too much of a good thing…at least for my brain.”

    I even said this in the blog post: “I read a few chapters of Furiously Happy* by Jenny Lawson AKA The Bloggess AKA my hero. I found myself wishing I could call her up on the phone to ask for advice because I sense from her writing that she would know exactly how I felt.”

    You are forever my hero and inspiration.

  130. This is fantastic news. I can’t wait for your new book to come out. I have been waiting patiently because honestly, I can recite all of your books I have read and listened to them so much. You keep me sane and I know they will make me so happy, even when I don’t care to smile. Depression sucks and anxiety too, so I grab one of your books or listen to one in the car as I drive, i am an Uber gal. Some passengers will ask me, who is that, she’s hysterical, and I reply, my favorite person, Jenny Lawson. She’s magical. Eeeeek, this is awesome.

  131. I love your math. 70%=70%=100%
    That’s how I think of a roulette table with the 0 and the 00. I count each as 1, so 34+0+00=36.
    Math aside, congratulations. You inspire me, and remind me to push through the muck of depression.

  135. This is such a powerful and relatable post. Thank you for sharing your experience with us. It’s inspiring to hear how you’ve navigated the challenges of mental illness and continued to pursue your passions. Your honesty and vulnerability are truly admirable. I can’t wait to read your new book!

    khalidelarbi
    ——————————–

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