THE HORROR OF HUMANITY: THE AUTHOR VS. THE VOICE OF DISCORDIA BY P.L. MCMILLAN

10/5/2021

For me, my Voice of Discordia comes from my lifelong anxiety and depression. Most days, the voice – my inner monologue that tries to tell me that chances of success are too small, that I’m not good enough, and nothing I do will matter – is manageable. I can deal with it and push through. Other days, it’s a cacophony, a weight that crushes me down.

Imagine a world painted in crimson, amethyst, and onyx hues. The sky is a cauldron of smoky clouds and stabs of lightning. Our hero, the protagonist, beaten and wearied, stands with a brilliant blade held aloft in an endless battle against the insidious and darkly robed villain.

Now imagine that protagonist is you, or me, or someone else striving to express themselves, to write, to paint, to act, or whatever. And who is the antagonist? Who is the villain?

Personally, I call it the Voice of Discordia.

What is the Voice of Discordia? It’s different for everyone but, in essence, it is whatever tries to prevent you from achieving whatever it is you want to achieve. Depression, anxiety, writer’s block, doubt. All of it can act as the Voice of Discordia.

For me, my Voice of Discordia comes from my lifelong anxiety and depression. Most days, the voice – my inner monologue that tries to tell me that chances of success are too small, that I’m not good enough, and nothing I do will matter – is manageable. I can deal with it and push through. Other days, it’s a cacophony, a weight that crushes me down.

And the thing is, the Voice of Discordia never stops whispering. It’s like quicksand waiting to drown you, and it’s a lot easier to let yourself sink than to always fight against it. Dealing with anxiety and depression is just that: a daily fight against yourself, and it is exhausting. It really, really is. There will be days where I wonder how I am supposed to have any energy to write when it takes everything I have to get up in the morning, to do the chores that need doing, to go to work every day. What will I have left for writing?

I don’t always stay on top. I sink to the Voice of Discordia’s persuasive pull. Suddenly it’s been several days since I last wrote ,and every day it seems too hard to start again, what’s the point? How do I start again, how do I get in motion when I’ve been still for so long?

If my anxiety is a choking hold around my neck, then my depression is a weight that settles on top. So now what? I’m in the pits. How do I climb out?

I don’t have the answer for everyone struggling against their own Voice of Discordia, but I can share what has worked for me. When I was at one of my lowest points in my life, I wasn’t writing at all. I felt there was no point, and I had pretty much given up. Every task seemed daunting and impossible.

I was at rock bottom, and I had a choice to give up, or to try something, anything. So, I set a daily goal for myself of only 200 words. That doesn’t sound like much, does it? Yet, in those early days, even 200 words was a struggle. I would agonize over those 200 words for hours.

But it was an act of resistance against the Voice of Discordia. Every 200 words was a success, because it was better than doing nothing at all. And that was what I began to realize at that time. Success didn’t have to be this huge endeavour. It didn’t have to be fireworks and champagne. Sometimes it just meant I got out of bed, did everything I had to do, and still managed to (barely) get 200 words written.

Eventually, I was writing more than 200 words a day. Suddenly, it wasn’t torture anymore. Writing was becoming easier, and the Voice of Discordia became weaker. I had one of my stories published two years after, and that was only the beginning, I suppose. But not the end, because I don’t believe my fight against the Voice of Discordia will ever end.

Writing then became a tool I could use against the Voice of Discordia because I could funnel in all my anxiety, all my darkness, and all my despair into my stories. My characters suffered and fought with me against Discordia. Now, dozens of published stories later, I am more confident in myself despite Discordia.

I guess another method of coping with my internal battle was in the act of naming it. You see it in movies about demons all the time: if you know its true name, you gain control over it. For me, giving a name to the voice inside my head that was telling me I wasn’t good enough was a way to set it apart from me. Before, it was nameless. It was me. I fought against myself and how do you win that fight?

With a name, the Voice of Discordia became an enemy I could ignore because it wasn’t me, so it didn’t deserve my attention. When I find my thoughts twisting and I begin to spiral into that darkness, I remind myself to ignore Discordia and the seeds it tries to sow.

At the same time, how do I tell people to keep fighting when I know how much it hurts? When people ask me how am I so productive, how do I handle my job plus my writing, and art, and blogging? How do I tell them that every day feels like work sometimes and every day is just another day fighting in an endless war against Discordia?

I will tell you to keep fighting because sometimes the best path in life, the most rewarding path, will also be the hardest. I will tell you to keep fighting because every victory, no matter how small, matters. I will tell you to keep fighting because you matter.

I won’t lie to you. It will never be an easy journey against anxiety, against depression, against the Voice of Discordia. But you don’t have to let it define you. Your darkness, your struggles don’t have to drape you like a veil, obscuring you from your potential.

The darkness will always be a part of you, but you can force it to be defined by you instead. Cast it behind you like a shadow and use it in your art, in your fiction.

That’s what I do.

And some days I win, some days I lose, but I will never stop fighting.

x PLM

Howls From Hell: A Horror Anthology

Spacefaring researchers disturb an ancient horror. An enchanted object curses a grieving widow. A haunted reel torments a film student. A murder trial hinges on a chilling testimony.

In Howls From Hell, sixteen emerging horror writers pave the way for the future of the genre. Fans of dark and macabre fiction will savor this exhibition of all-original tales born from one of the fastest-growing horror communities in the world: HOWL Society.

With a foreword by GRADY HENDRIX, this anthology unveils the horror writers of tomorrow with spine-tingling stories from:

P.L. McMillan, J.W. Donley, Shane Hawk, Christopher O'Halloran, Alex Wolfgang, Amanda Nevada DeMel, Lindsey Ragsdale, Solomon Forse, Justin Faull, M. David Clarkson, B.O.B. Jenkin, S.E. Denton, Thea Maeve, Joseph Andre Thomas, Joe Radkins, Quinn Fern

P.L. McMillan

P.L. McMillan is a Canadian expat living in the States after having taught English for three years in Asia. She is a victim of a deep infatuation with the works of H.P. Lovecraft, Stephen King, and Shirley Jackson. To her, every shadow is an entryway to a deeper look into the black heart of the world, and every night she rides with the mocking and friendly ghouls on the night-wind, bringing back dark stories to share with those brave enough to read them.

You can find her online here:
Website: www.plmcmillan.com
Twitter: @AuthorPLM
Instagram: AuthorPLM
Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/plmcmillan
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/~/e/B089459GG6