"Tragedy"s and Comedies

“You’re so good with words!”  “You should write…”  I have heard these things for much of my life beginning in adolescence.  I developed a love for language likely because my Dad had his degree in English.  My Dad was my hero – the smartest man alive.  This man did the newspaper’s crossword puzzle every morning before going to his day job, would come home after working all day and work in the garage or in the yard, and manage to read three or more novels every week.  The librarians knew him.  I wish I had that ambition.  I think I longed to excel at English because I longed for that connection with him – to be like my Dad with his degree in English.  I felt like failing English would be failing him.  He was my Dad and always told me how smart I was – I wonder if most Dads say that anyway…  But, that is how the writing started and why wanting to use my words to best of my ability really meant something to me…  My writing has certainly changed my life.

I have romanticized and fantasied writing about MY LIFE for over 20 years.  I would start and then stop…  Sometimes, visiting the past is painful, but I often find so much joy in visiting the past. 

This will sound so incredibly silly but last week Taylor Swift released her “Tortured Poets Department” album.  Just the title made me think “I used to be a member of that department…”  In middle school and high school, I used to write A LOT!  Over the years, I destroyed so much of my writing because I looked back with embarrassment or I thought gosh, I don’t want my kids to stumble upon this.  But, I knew there was a notebook that contained some of my writing.  I hadn’t looked at it in well over 15 years…likely 20+.  I got the notebook out and looked through it.  I felt a profound sadness for the young teen woman who wrote these things.  I laughed at some of the things.  So many writings about doing drugs, suicidal ideations, self-harm…  There was anger…a lot of anger…  There was sadness…a lot of sadness…  This young woman was SCREAMING for help, but no one cared or they thought it was just creativity I suppose.  What I did find in so many of those writings wasn’t all hopeless… there was hope.

I am so glad that sad young woman didn’t take her life or hurt anyone the way she spoke of in those writings.  I wish I could tell her everything would be okay.  I wish I could tell her it gets worse, but it also gets better.  And, just when you think it’s better, life sometimes knocks you down again… BUT, you keep getting up…  You have to get up.  If it isn’t over, then your story isn’t over.  So, keep “writing” your story…

I have thought of life since I pulled those writings out last night and I thought I need to tell my story – even if it is just for me.  Maybe no one will read it, but I need this.  This will be a memoir to me.  I am doing this for me.  I am going to store the past on pages.  I will take my past off of the pages I wrote as a sad teen…  I will take my correspondence with my friends who are no longer here and those that are still here, but maybe our season has passed…or maybe we are still riding out this thing called life together.  It isn’t all sad though.  There is a lot of joy too.  It will be a compilation of many things past and also a lot of present…

Life is full of “Tragedy” but there is also so much comedy…  And, sometimes there is comedy in the “Tragedy”…  But, where do I begin?