Tag Archives: writer

My memories, My Memoir

Since I became disabled from a rare autoimmune disease, I have found that writing was very therapeutic. Being able to write my thoughts down on paper was keeping me sane. The disease took my ability to live the life I knew. I had to learn to live the new life I was given because of the destruction from my disease. My doctor even told me that my life would make a great book. It took a few years to realize I had a lot to offer readers.

 

Since starting to write my memoir book I have come across a few critics, mainly myself. Who would want to read this? You do not even know the first thing about writing. Being an author takes years of training. Just a few self doubting phrases that my inner critic throws out at me to keep me from my goal. I have to quiet that part of my mind and allow myself to just let my pen flow. A few other people in my life have also made statements that I took to heart and began thinking that maybe they are right. Maybe I am dreaming to big. I began to think that if I listened to every “negative Nancy” that I have come across in life, I would not have done many things. I use that as motivation to push me through my web of doubt. I had to build confidence within myself to know that I want my story to be told.

 

The thought of what my family might think of some of the things I have put on paper does not hinder me, or keep me from writing. If it was not for my family, I would have never had some of the best experiences throughout my life, some good, some bad. My family did put the “D” in dysfunctional. I have told them that this is my memory and emotions that made me who I am today. If they wanted to tell the world their side, by all means write yourself a memoir book.

 

The problems I face in my writing is the fear that my writing is vague and emotionless. Emotion is something I buried with 21 years of alcoholism. I am learning how to convey emotion in words, and not just feeling. I find myself tearing up when I dig deep and write my deepest emotional memories. Even if this book never makes the shelves, I will have healed very old wounds that I harbored deep inside myself. My only regret about writing this memoir, is that I did not start it sooner!

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