Writing to Connect

‎"Write only if you cannot live without writing. Write only what you alone can write."  Elie Wiesel

 

Yesterday at work...I sat in a meeting...feeling uncomfortable....knowing I had to talk....in front of all those people.  I felt that old familar sick feeling in the pit of my stomach....and a far away feeling....fighting hard to stay present. All I wanted was to run....leave.....hide....   

I think it's because I'm writing another story......based on things that really happened. Things that made me afraid. Things that hurt. Things I've wanted to forget. But can't. And I've been talking to others.....who tell me simialiar stories.....women who have never forgotten the brutality of the mental health system that was supposed to help them....a system that stripped them of their dignity and made them live in fear.

A part of me needs to write....to tell.....to have my voice and to give a voice to others who want their stories told but don't know how to do it.  

 

I want to be heard. I want to be known.... the real me...not just what people see....the strong, friendly, outgoing social me....but that part that so often needs to hide....and that's afraid....

 

When I'm alone....lost in my writing....I feel free....and connected. I can let my heart speak of things I've never been able to say.....things that still play in my head.....that remind me of when I lived with no hope. I know those things made me strong....made me a fighter.....gave me a determination to push back and never give up.

Writing gives me a release....a sense of purpose. Connecting with others who share similiar stories...I want to write the truth.....for them....for me.....I want to be a voice....

The Blind Side

"The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves." Amelia Earhart:

We watched the movie The Blind Side. For anyone who hasn't seen it....it's a true story about a family who made a difference in the life of a streetkid. A co-worker read my book...told me she saw the movie....it reminded her of me.....She pushed me to go see it.  

It was simliliar in ways. Raised with pain...alone...outcast...labeled....someone's  kindness....God's touch - a life changed.

Her name was Lane. She was a social worker....and she was there for me...when no one else was. Her supervisor warned her to keep a distance...to not get too close...not get involved. I'm not sure why she didn't take her advice....but I'm really grateful she didn't. 

She was there when no one else was. She believed in me...she cared...she stayed. My life...completely out of control...yet she saw something no one else did....she spoke words that made a difference...words that have stayed with me ever since that first time she said them..."I believe in you. You can do it. I believe you'll make it.......I know you will." 

Those words....her words....powerful.  Her actions....kind.....they made a difference. They made a difference to a street kid who everyone said would never make it....who couldn't cope without the needle...without profesional involvement....destined to live on welfare...in and out of facilities...maybe working in a mediocare job....living a substandard life. 

Once...when I was locked up...she told me to call her house every night at four.....talk to my mother until I get home from work. I did...her mother told me she believed in me too. Those words...their kindness pushed me to fight....pushed me to want to make it. It's weird...really weird.. their words...their kindness still motivates something in me to keep moving forward.  

Lost + broken + kindness + His touch = healing + freedom.