So, that happened
I know, it's been a long time. And, yes, I inadvertently ghosted you and everyone else. Didn't mean for it to happen. I was exhausted when Heartbeat came out in January 2014. It was my 12th novel in 7 years, and most of the early ARC reviews were brutal. I even did a blog tour which turned out to be a spectacular exercise in humiliation. By April of 2014, l tried to work on my next novel. I had amazing editorial notes. But every time I opened the file, I'd start to cry. A lot. I tried but that spark inside me, the one that was nourished by writing...it was gone. Accepting that was so difficult. Asking to be released from my contract? Even worse. I was fortunate that my lovely editor and everyone at Harlequin Teen was fantastically kind and understanding. Buying out the contract broke me more. But I thought that I would take a few months and relax. Heal. That what made me want to write would spark again. It did not happen. In August 2014, my life was rocked with revelations that devastated me, and left me estranged, to this day, from an immediate family member. I went to therapy from once a week to twice. I read books about my situation. I tried to find peace. I did, but not before gaining close to 70 pounds in six months. I lived on organic cheese pizza and organic macaroni and cheese. (Turns out, organic food can make you fat real fast!) And then my husband got a job in Philadelphia. We bought a house in May of 2015. I then spent several weeks quickly setting aside and donating over 5,000 books. It made me realize I was a bit of a hoarder. Okay, more than a bit. We moved into our new home in July 2015. By May of 2016, l was happy. I decided that I wanted to weigh less and overhauled my diet completely. I got sick in June 2016. By August, l had a diagnosis. I had peripheral neuropathy in my feet. Cause? My horrific bout with Epestein Barr that had destroyed my immune system, along with neurological episodes in my 20s and 30s I had dismissed. By October, l was in physical therapy twice a week, hoping to be able to be able to continue walking. I had to start using a wheelchair in January 2017. It took me a while to accept I am now disabled. I still go to physical therapy and exercise at home, although gone are the days where I could leap, run, and even walk more than a few steps. I work hard to keep my lower and upper body strong. My limitations force me to be creative, and I'm grateful for all the exercising I did before because it does help me think of ways to move. I have lost the 70 pounds I gained. It has not been easy and my body looks like a battlefield. I accept that I will never be the person I was, and love the person I have become. I am a survivor. I am a fighter. I am disabled. I'm Elizabeth.