I’ve come to realize that writing the story about a very traumatic year was truly the only way I could process it.
It took me 10 years to START the writing process and 4 years to complete it. I didn’t know what I was doing when I set out to do it. I was just compelled to write the story of what happened. The idea just wouldn’t leave me alone.
I knew it was an incredible story. An unbelievable story.
It was a story that changed me.
When I began, I thought, “Maybe I’m am writing this as a way to help others who had a similar experience.”
I kept writing, writing, writing. Many nights, between 5 and 7 pm. The worst time of the day if you have a family. Dinner time coincides with my daily creative burst. Sorry family. And, thank you for understanding. I know it’s annoying and inconvenient.
But, no, this wasn’t a self-help book. It didn’t include a list of the top 5 things I learned. There were no tips or tricks.
So then I thought, “Maybe I’m writing this to honor the life of the person I lost.”
I kept writing, writing, writing. Many nights, between 5 and 7 pm. And then I realized, “Nope. I’m definitely writing this for me. I’m not sure what it’s going to do for me. This might be self-indulgent to take this time alone, away from my family, to write if it’s just for myself.”
I swear I wasn’t just trying to get out of cooking dinner.
After four years, I finished writing.
And then I hired two therapists.
I gave one psychologist the goal of helping me work through my medical trauma. I didn’t want to be a hypochondriac anymore. Even though, she reminded me, I had a very good reason to be.
In our work together, I often found myself saying, “Oh yah, that’s in my book.” Or, “That reminds me of a passage in my book.” Or, “In my book, I said…”
She reflected back to me, “Sounds like your book was your treatment plan.”
And, that wasn’t far off.
I’ve recently had the privilege of working with and befriending a Harvard scientist who studies trauma at the highest levels. Her reaction to writing a chapter in an anthology about her own trauma blew me away. “I found writing this chapter surprisingly powerful. I had told the story myself many times, and gave talks about it, but never wrote the story myself. I also got a perspective I had not had before. Though it was hard, I loved the process. The days I made myself sit and write for hours were my happiest days even if the writing was hard.”
Yes.
That was me writing, writing, writing between 5 and 7 pm many nights.
Coincidentally, I jrecently learned about the work on trauma writing done by Dr. James Pennebaker at UT Austin. His research shows that writing, writing, writing pretty much any time of day “about traumatic or deeply emotional experiences significantly improves physical and mental health.”
Maybe the writing was just about surviving what happened.
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Absolutely relate to this. Nothing heals me quite the writing does, not even storytelling on stage