The day this is posted is my actual re-birthday. That is, the anniversary of the day of my medical crisis, September 3rd, 2021. Here is yesterday’s post leading up to this post. In yesterday’s post, I rambled about this and that as is my wont. Today, I want to list my goals for my fourth year in my rebirth. I’m going to try to stick to that in this post, but we’ll see how it goes.
1. Finally write my damn memoir/murder mystery/novel about my medical experience. I have loosely held this goal in my head ever since I got back home from the hospital. I have tried to write both a memoir and a murder mystery (several times), but I just could not do it. Not that I couldn’t write; I could do that. But…
How do I explain this? Before my medical crisis, I wrote several murder mysteries. The way I would do it is I would come up with an idea in my head. Within a day or so, I would have the perp, the victim, and the general circumstances surrounding the murder. In another couple days, I would have the chronological events (the important ones) lined out in my head. Then, I would start writing and not stop until I was done.
I know the conventional wisdom is to write an outline before you actually start writing. I don’t do that. Nor have I ever held to a writing schedule. Well, I mean, I have a rough one–I write at night. That’s a whole nother topic, how I come alive at night. I do my best writing after midnight. But I don’t set a certain time to write. I feel constricted when I do this. I write when I feel like writing, and that’s worked for me in the past.
Now, however, it’s time to admit that my own ways don’t work for me any longer. I did NaNoWriMo last year (I’ve done it every year for a decade or more. I think I might have skipped 2021 or done editing, but I don’t remember). I had a good idea for…2022 or 2023? Again, I don’t remember which one because my memory is shit now, but one of them. It was a rom-com/murder mystery mash-up.
I knew the perp, the victim, and the other main people. I knew how I wanted to have the meet-cute. I just couldn’t make it work. In part because I hate rom-coms. I probably should have taken that more into account when I started writing, but I thought that made it the perfect thing for me to try.
I gave up after NaNoWriMo was over. I still think it’s a good idea, but I just could not make it work. Probably because I have not seen enough rom-coms to consistently mimic the tone. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve seen any…wait, yes. I have seen a few, but they’re old ones like When Harry Met Sally (which I did not like). I did watch Blow Dry, but that was only because Alan Rickman was in it (and many years after it was released) so I don’t remember anything about the love story. Oh, and I saw the dreadful (yeah, I said it) Love, Actually, also because Alan Rickman was in it. His story with Emma Thompson was one of the shining moments in the movie (and so heartbreaking), but the rest of it? Throw it in the fucking bin.
It’s a terrible movie. I hate that it’s a go-to Christmas movie. That is not the point of this post, but it grinds my gear that it’s so beloved.
I thought I could bridge the gap between my hatred of rom-coms and writing one. Nope. I should watch queer rom-coms. Maybe I would feel differently about the genre then.
Back to my goals.
I want to get back to fiction. Writing it, I mean. I miss it so much; I’m just not sure it’s still within me. Before my medical crisis, I had stories in my head all the time. Now, I don’t. I’ve had some brain damage with my stroke, and I’m wondering if this is one of the ways in which it manifests. I also used to be able to visualize things in my head. If someone said, picture a red apple in your mind, I could do it immediately. And then, “Imagine eating the apple.” Not a problem, either. Now, I can still do it, but it’s clunkier and more like a flip book rather than an animation.
Back to my goals. I have wanted to write a memoir about my medical experience because it’s a one-of-a-kind experience. That is both the selling point and the sticking point. The former because, obviously, it’s unheard of. My medical team continually called me a miracle, and I was treated like a rock star.
It’s not a good idea because no one can relate to me. I’m not exaggerating. For the first year after my experience, any time I saw a discussion about mental health/health issues, I had to bite my tongue. Whether it was depression or anxiety or body hatred, my response was always (internally), “Try dying!” Yes, it’s high risk, but it’s also very high reward.
Of course, that’s a ridiculous thing to say to people. “Have you tried dying? I highly recommend it.” I would like to find a way to explain what happened to me, but I just can’t. I can get close, maybe. Also, yes, there are people who have had near death experiences (NDE), so I could go down that route, I guess, if I wanted to find commiseration/acknowledgement for my situtation in general. I’m not sure I do, though. I want to be able to talk more about what I went through. I tried looking for a group therapy for someone who had had two cardiac arrests and a stroke. Could not find any.
Then, I looked for someone who had suffered a cardiac arrest. Also could not find any. I looked far and wide, but no luck. I found several for people who have had loved ones who suffered a cardiac arrest, but none for those who had had a cardiac arrest themselves. It took a while for me to figure it out, but then I think I got it. People who have cardiac arrests don’t usually survive. So it’s mostly the loved ones who have to deal with the aftermath.
As to strokes, there are more groups for that. However, I did not want to be that person dragging others down because I know that for most people, having a stroke leaves them with serious and life-lasting ramifications.
That’s all for today. More tomorrow.