Aftermath

The Diamond Cutters session went tonight. I was the first, my manuscript was discussed, critiqued, pulled apart. Themes were found, nuances were fleshed out. I discovered things about my writing that I didn't even notice, and yet they repeated themselves through the manuscript. The neat thing about writing from experience, from the heart is that what is written down is so true little details unfold to create such a large interconnected picture. I never noticed the use of fire throughout the manuscript and yet a reference to fire is on almost every page.
Disconnect. A word used many times tonight. A state in which I occupy 70% of my time. As a writer writing a personal story one of the first things you must do is disconnect yourself from being the character and become the writer. The part of yourself that this happened to becomes a character in the story, told by another part of you that takes over, becomes the conduit for this self to tell their story. Many pieces of the same whole, all acting together to accomplish the same task - tell the story as it is meant to be told. In order to do service to what has happened this disconnect is necessary. It is a powerful feeling to tell your story. Powerful because at this moment you are the center of your own universe, you are taking a big leap of faith in baring yourself to the world.
I sat in silence for 30 minutes and listened to B. lead the group in discussion and analysis of my work. B was doing most of the leading as this is the first critique and everyone was shy. I got pages of feedback which I may use. Suggestions on how to improve, expand my work, make it more palatable and less jerky.
This was the easy part. Now comes the hard part. What next? Do I continue writing this story. A common comment was the piece was so rich, so dense in stories and experiences that a book could be written. Which is what my mananger was hinting at when she gave me the journal. Write, catalog, tell my story because other generations of patients and nurses could benefit from it. Benefit from my life, or what was left of it.
At a wedding party this weekend I met a man who had been in a serious car accident in Savannah, Georgia which had left him in a very similar condition to myself. At the beginning of the night, E and I had sat alone at a table to the side of the outdoor tent in the bride's backyard. We were at the mingling portion of the evening, which I find difficult as moving around contantly is still limited for me, not to mention being in a large crowd of boisterous partially inebriated party goers. I was very anxious, feeling very disconnected from everyone there, embarrassed about my condition. We were just about to leave when the bride, a friend from back when time began, sat down with us and began chatting. We were joined by her friends, people I had met at previous occasions, who knew me by sight. I re-met C's good friend L. who was also a nurse. We discussed the good and bad of nursing, entertaining each other with ridiculous stories from the ward/ER.
Eventually two guys joined us. One of the guys mentioned that he had broken his neck once. A story about a car wreck a few years ago ensued and he talked of endless months in hospital and rehab, learning to walk again, learning how to speak, physical rehab, reintegrating himself back into society and eventually returning to work. As he told his story I began to react so strongly that tears came to my eyes and I had great difficulty hiding them. He seemed so normal, had just got married, was happy, despite the years it took to come back from his life changing event. He was positive, upbeat, pragmatic. His overall message was this: stay positive, be thankful for what you do have, and work hard to get back what was lost. I tried to put on my shoes and leave but a woman who was a nurse and to whom I had been chatting about nursing with, put her hand on my knee and asked if I was okay.
"Oh," I said, wiping my eyes, "I'm crying because what happened to you is happening to me. It has been since last September."
As I spoke Nurse L and the other guy spoke up, that they had heard about me from C, the bride of the evening. The survivor kept talking, encouraging, empathizing. The others followed suite. A truly amazing moment. So eye opening, Like a restrictive glass door shattering, allowing me to move forward another tiny bit. Amazing