So… in a few weeks I begin school, again. This choice to take the fist step towards a new career, is one that has upset a lot of things. The desire to work on my novel chief among them. Part of this I think is due to anticipating not having the time or energy to work on the blasted thing, part is because with that choice I changed.
Much of the mc’s journey is figuring out who he’s become and what he needs to do to feel like he has purpose. Something I’ve related to very strongly until recently. His journey, while far more dramatic and ending far more epic-ally than my own, asked a lot of the same questions.
While the monsters he fights are far more literal than my own, they are, were reflections of my own. His haunted past that made him unable to do that which he thought defined him, that left him feeling like he was useless for all but the most mundane things, could easily be construed as being a reflection for my own past.
To be clear, I don’t have some brutal horrible backstory full of abuse and tragedy. My parents were awesome, my sisters could be a pain in the ass(in truth I’m still not entirely over the kool-aid incident(they convinced me to eat straight kool-aid powder.)) and I’m sure I was a pain in the ass sometimes to. But, for the most part, home was a happy place. The only time I ever felt fear, or dread, coming home was when I had a report card or a test that I hadn’t done well on. Which for much of my grade school years was often.
And that’s the lingering problem, I was the stupid kid, the kid that went to resource because I needed the help. That’s where my monsters were born, and the superiority complex I developed to fight them. Rather than seeing myself as a smart, or at least average kid, that needed extra help because of a learning disorder, I saw myself as a stupid kid who held onto the delusion that even though I was failing I was still better than the rest of the class, and probably most of the school. I was somehow smarter, better, and just all around a higher quality human being.
I’ve spent the last five years earnestly tearing apart that complex. As a result I accept the moments where learning is just really hard easier, and the times it’s easy more gracefully. I’ve judged people less. And I’ve made friends easier, and I’m far kinder to the girl in the mirror.
And writing, is so often a reflection of things I didn’t even know I thought about. Right now life is in a state of flux, I’m looking at a new journey. The last few days I’ve been staring at that horizon, shoulders square, chin up, a slight smile on my face, and every thought coalescing into the phrase “Bring it.”
To family and friends who’ve helped me get here. Thank you. Without the amazing people who have helped me heal so much I would never have had the courage to make this choice.