If I knew

Dearest World,

If I knew how to turn the pain off, I would.
If I knew how to have hope for the future, I would.
If I knew how to stop hating myself for being unable to have a child, I would.
If I knew how to stop feeling like a disappointment to my husband, I would.
If I knew how to stop the fear, I would.
If I knew how to keep from falling apart in a room full of strangers, I would.
If I knew how to fix my womb, I would.
If I knew how to finally be a mother, I would.


The trouble is I don't. I don't know how to move on from this. I don't know how to make it all go away. I don't know how to hope that one day I will get to be a mother. I just don't.

I can fall apart at a moment's notice, no matter what is being said. I feel raw, over-emotional and utterly ruined. I keep trying to do and say the right things to make it all go away but it won't.

It still hurts just as much as the day I lost you. I think of you almost every day - both of you. I love you so much even though I'll never get to see you and hold you. I'll never get to count your fingers and toes or dream of your future. It was over before it even began and I'm left here, alone. Just wishing I could stop loving you for one second, wishing there would be a moment that I didn't feel the darkness and unyielding pain at the back of my heart just threatening to break me.

If I knew how to end it all, I would.

In sorrowful weirdness,
Alissa

The Potter part of me...

Dearest World,

Whenever I am asked, "If you could do any job in the in the world, what would it be?" My answer is a novelist. Up until recently I shied away from stating my heart's desire for fear of laughter or condemnation. I was too afraid I would have to produce some of my writing to be judged and I wasn't ready. But lately, something within me has started to resent my cowardice and so I am able to communicate my hopes and dreams regarding the literary world. (I can actually say the words, "I want to write" to people's faces now - GASP!) Though I am able to tell people the truth now, I still have a hard time producing my work.  I'm still not 100% ready. I lack confidence in my skills and I'm very critical (and insanely over-protective) about all of my work this far.

In a recent assignment for school we were asked to define ourselves as a writer, and I realized I had no idea what kind of writer I wanted to be... This left me, hmmm... how do I put it? PANICKED! How have I dreamt about this for years and yet have no idea exactly how I wanted to try and accomplish this goal? Ridiculous!

As I began to think about how I could offer something of value to the book community I could only think of one thing: being honest about my experiences. Most creative people - like writers (including me!) - seek a place to help resolve their own emotions and this makes your emotional experiences a crucial element in your identity. Now I just have to figure out how I want to share these experiences.

Do I want to make people laugh? Obviously.

Cry? Uhmm, not to sound horrible, but yes!

Feel afraid? I don't think I'd do well with this one, as I am a horrid fraidy cat!

Challenged? Absolutely. 

I've discovered that I pretty much want to affect people on every possible emotional level. Now, this is a bit too broad for me to be successful - at least in these beginning stages. So, I have to narrow down what I am best at and how I feel I can connect with people.

I think I am a very genuine person and genuine personality can really make a difference when you are dealing with the public. I know I am unapologetically weird almost every moment of every day. I hope that my writing will reflect an authenticity that truly helps people connect to the story. So, I am going to start there....

I know having a starting point is just the beginning. It takes a lot of hard work - work on self, work on actual stories, work in getting an online presence - to make a living as a novelist. But I think I am, for the first time, truly ready to try.

With determined weirdness,
Alissa