I have several draft posts sitting and waiting. At some point I had even gone back and looked at them, but each time I sighed and closed that tab.
It’s been a rough couple of years, on top of already hard years due to chronic migraines and the pandemic. In many ways it’s gotten better recently even if the fundamental pain points still exist.
In brief:
-my father died unexpectedly in Nov 2022
-I was attacked by a large dog in June 2023
– was diagnosed with ADHD at 40 years of age in Sept 2023
It’s a lot, especially on top of chronic health issues. But with my amazing therapist I worked through these major events after other events triggered my need to seek the help of a professional back in 2021. I reached a point where I could no longer manage on my own. This is true today even though I no longer need to meet with my therapist right now.
Yesterday was a book launch for the Sudbury Writer’s Guild’s latest anthology. In it is the first poem I’ve had published. Last night’s book launch emphasized my need for community and how I am uplifted in sometimes small ways by the people around me. But only when I let them. It is hard to put yourself out there when so much of your existence has been trying to fit a mold that was never meant for you.
I defy boxes.
In not fitting neatly the way much of society would prefer, I realized that I had pulled away bit by bit from the things that brought me joy. I could play at the writing and dream of getting published, but it was still something for the future.
As I started to share my work amongst a few trusted people, I was encouraged to do more, to keep writing, keep sharing, and (eventually) submitting my work. In becoming published, I could proudly say I am an AUTHOR. Not just a writer, but an author. It was a strange distinction I needed to propel me forward.
I’m still struggling with layers of grief, unmasking my neurodivergence, and chronic health issues. But last night I stood at a podium and read that poem to a wonderful and supportive audience. It was also the first time I had read aloud in public, beyond the safe workshop spaces on Zoom.
I am proud to say I am a poet, but that is not all I am. I defy being shoved into niches. I don’t want to limit what I write even if the world around me is more at ease with the narrow identities they can place on people. I am many things, and I am ever evolving.
As I return to a regular creative practice that factors in my variable capacity, I am reminded that I do not exist alone. I am supported by loved ones, and those in the community that support my endeavours. To all of you I say thank you. You mean the world to me.