Coping and Climbing with Neurodivergence
- authormillieprice
- Mar 20
- 5 min read
Hello and Welcome back to A Writer in the Woods. This month I’ll be ranting about how coping is leading to new adventures which are steadily guiding me toward new ways of coping with neurodivergence.
But first, some updates...
It is actually happening. It’s been announced that yours truly has signed with Uncomfortably Dark for my debut Indie novel Spooky Action at a Distance. It took a lot of queries to find the right place for this story, and UD is it. Can’t wait for you to meet Bodie and her sisters!
I didn’t make the finals in the KillerShorts Competition, but I did get an Honorable Mention. That’s huge and will hopefully help to get more of my stories read by publishers and the like.
The Sleeper has gotten a little face lift and will be hitting the query trenches again this week. Let’s see if there is an agent out there ready to show this WierdGirlLit some love. If not, the Indie scene is booming, and I am here for it!
I’m on the tail end of another freelance project with Onyx Path’s Curseborne series. This time they asked me to go a bit darker, and you know I love the dark.
Next Weekend, March 28th, 2026, I will be on my first ever Women in Horror panel in Pueblo, CO. We will be talking about the ups and downs of being seen through our stories. The in-person tickets are limited but there are still Virtual Tickets available for anyone that wants to hang.
All right, let’s get to it.
When I started this newsletter it was mostly to rant about dealing with this world while also trying to cope and survive mental illness and neurodivergence. Well, dear reader, although many things have changed on my writing path, not much has changed in my brain. This last month, I suffered two panic attacks that took me to the edge. The strange part: it was because things are going so well. I freaked out so hard, my body shut down for a full day. I haven’t been that wrecked for over a decade. This leads me to a new question about my brain and the life I’m trying to create for myself.
Would I have to work so hard to cope if I wasn’t pursuing publishing?
The simple answer is no. Without my current goals I wouldn’t have to deal with travel anxiety, stage fright, masking and all the other stuff that comes with trying to get out of my comfort zone. I could just sit in my house, do the minimal work and know that although my symptoms won’t get better, they won’t get worse either. But there’s a twist to this line of thought.
Without my goals, I’d have no reason to try to find ways of coping.
Yeah, this is where things get tricky because, although finding new and better coping mechanisms has taken a lot of hard inner work, it has also reawakened parts of me that I thought I had to leave behind. I mean, would I be back in the mountains enjoying hikes if I didn’t do the work to learn how to travel again? Would I even be writing these stories at all if I didn’t deal with extreme home sickness to hang out with some really cool writers? I guess in the end, it’s all connected, all twisted around itself and to be honest dear reader, I’m not sure I want to untie myself from it all just yet.
Yes, it’s true, I had two full-on breakdowns this month. I mean, swollen eyes, snot dripping heavy sob panic attacks. My mind exploded and filled with all the pitfalls and past experiences. You know what I mean, that dark voice that takes over and screams danger! Every decision felt like a trap, every nice word felt like there was something behind it waiting for me that would jump out and say, “You idiot, did you really think you were worth it.” Yeah, that kind of panic attack. To be honest, as I write these words I can feel the dark voice churning in my gut still waiting to make another move. I’m sure it’ll be back again and again and again. It wasn’t fun, and at one point I found myself crying over my dinner and wondering how in the hell I was going to survive if this was only the beginning.
The answer to is not simple, but it’s true: 1 fucking step at a time. It’s the only way to do it.
I will say that only five years ago, those panic attacks would’ve broken me. I would’ve slunk away from the writing scene, deleted all of my accounts, (which I seriously considered doing this time around), and faded into obscurity just so I didn’t have to deal with the indescribable fear that overwhelms me during those attacks. This time, I did not. I let myself cry. I let myself freak out and I even talked it out with my partner, which is not typical of me. Why? Because I usually feel utterly embarrassed when I go through those attacks. In my brain, I know that the voice has no validity, no power, yet I am ashamed that it still has a hold, so I kept it to myself. This time was different, and I can’t help but believe it is because of all the inner-work I’m doing to learn how to cope with new situations, new people, rejection, heartache and wonderful surprises. Damn it, I’m tearing up again.
Shit is hard all over. Life never seems to create a clear path, there is no handbook, no instruction manual, no back-up plans when it comes to the day-to-day shit. I mean seriously, sometimes this world seems more delusional than I am when I’m in the throes of panic. For a long time, I figured all the irrationality in the world was reason enough to give in to my fears, tuck myself away in a corner and just wait for the shit to end. Yet, there’s more to life than what we fear, so much more in fact. It’s a shit show of scary, no doubt, but in the pockets and around corners there is wonder, there is joy, and believe it or not, there is us. No matter how scarred we are, no matter how much harder it is for us on the daily, it doesn’t change one simple fact: We deserve to be happy, to strive and to achieve. There may be those who try and stop us, hell, our own brains and bodies can be the biggest obstacles, but it doesn’t mean we can’t get there.
Is the inner work hard, and like constant? Fuck yeah it is, but we can do it. I mean we survived this long; we are still here. We are still here!
Anyway, thanks for hanging for the rant. As I finish typing these words there is a storm of emotions ready to rear its ugly head and tell me I’m an idiot for believing any of this, but trust me dear reader I do. Don’t be afraid to be afraid. Let it ride, let it wash over you and then see it for what it is and push right on through. I dear reader, will continue to try and do the same.
Until next time,
Millie
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