The other night Sam and I went to dinner. Nothing fancy, the new PF Chang’s opened near us and we wanted to try it. Our sitter watched the girls and we headed out for two hours of just us.
Somehow as we ate, the subject turned to my yet-to-be-written book.
You know, the one I was signed to write almost two years ago. That one.
Now to give myself some grace, shortly after I found out I was pregnant with Charlotte. And not knowing what would happen, I felt like I couldn’t write it then. So I waited. But now it’s been another year and – I’ve written some here and there but that’s about it. I’ve even talked about it in therapy because it bothers me so much.
I want to write my story start to finish (of that part of my life). I want to see it in print, to hold it in my hands, to put it on my bookshelf. I’ve written stories and small books since I was a little girl, this has been a dream of mine forever. And here it is… waiting for me.
So what’s the problem?
I’ve wrestled with this thought for over a year now. What is it? Charlotte came home. Our family has had some things happen since Kaden died, but Sam and I agreed to write the story, those need to be included. So it’s not trying to figure out how to leave things out or navigate around parts we can’t share. I have a good support system. My blog is still going.
As we talked my words just started to spill out.
“If it gets published, I know I’ll be expected to help sell it. Depending on the sales, I’ll need to do interviews and maybe a book tour and all of that. And I just can’t.”
I just can’t.
I can’t do that to my story right now. I can’t write it and market it. I can barely write in Word, in my therapist’s room, on a document no one might ever see – just a few words to list my traumas. One of them – which I’ve only ever told one time in therapy – is so painful and horrific that I can’t even bear to think of the words on paper yet.
It took me 10 minutes between sobs to even say it out loud.
So that leaves me in this very strange place now with it all. Some things I’ve written on here and it helps to write and then read what I wrote over and over. It lessens the impact – not what happened but the actual impact on me emotionally to do that. But there are some I just don’t know how to write, and they have to be. Eventually.
I know some of you might think, “Then don’t! Why on earth would you do that to yourself?” Because I must one day. I want to write it. I want to hold my story in my hands and read it cover to cover. I don’t think that’s a bad thing at all. It’s just that it requires a lot more bravery and healing than I’m ready for. I want our story and my son’s lives and all the stuff that came after to be authentic and raw and real – which also holds me back.
How much is too much? What if it’s rejected? What if the Christian community/publishers/readers give it back and say, “Well now, let’s tone it down a little because really Diana – what would Jesus write?” :/
That kills me. I know this is what God gave me, but I’ve had a lot of rejection in the Christian (mostly online) community in the past few years where I feel as though the people around me just finally said – enough. Let’s get someone less messy.
So I have all of that to work through too.
Maybe writing this will help me. Maybe I’ll be brave enough to type out the stories that still can break my heart. I don’t know. Part of me feels like – this isn’t finished. And of course I don’t mean it’ll ever be “finished” until my last day, but that this chapter of my life that has been filled with so much – so much you all still don’t know – isn’t quite done. My therapist said the same last week. Hopefully it isn’t more pain, but either way every time I sit down to write I pause and think, “How will this – this part of my story – end?” It can’t end with Charlotte, because she is her own little person. She healed in ways, but she wasn’t meant to be the healer for us.
I’m going to start writing and reading it to my therapist in therapy. I’ll maybe publish some on here. Maybe I’ll be brave enough to write the whole thing one day soon.