For this four-part newsletter series, I’ve been talking about how this is a love story came to be, and how the centralizing of my mental health and well-being have been critical to the creation of this project in the first place. Believing your story matters and having a good support system are critical for both mental health and writing. And so is rest.
In fall 2020, in the midst of severe depression and anxiety, all I wanted to do was feel better. I was like a desperate addict in the way that I searched for things that could fix me. (I wrote a poem called fix about this idea for this is a love story). I went through medications, counsellors, phone calls with everyone who had been there before. Eventually, I couldn’t do any of it. In reflecting with a therapist (that I finally actually connected with) on my journey to recovery, she asked, so what do you think you needed to get to this point of working towards recovery? What changed?
I said, I think I needed to stop.
The combination of my own anxieties and the culture I live in creates an environment where it seems impossible to slow down. Resting for a day, an hour, twenty minutes is a guilt-inducing indulgence. I have been extremely thankful for Tricia Hersey’s work with The Nap Ministry, who puts words to thoughts about rest as resistance. Hersey talks about how rest is our divine right, and does not need to be productive to be worthwhile. Before I was always in the camp of “well, you can get more done if you take breaks” but really, rest is much deeper than that. It is a deeply spiritual untangling of the systems we are a part of, and it is part of accepting ourselves as beings rather than people who do things.
A mental health Instagram I follow posted a poll the other day asking the question, what made you take your mental health seriously? And the majority of the responses were, “it got so bad I had no choice.” What if I had let myself stop, before my body forced me to? What if we take our mental health seriously before breaking point?
My body had forced everything in my life to a stop, and with recovery came slowly building everything back up again. I am extremely privileged to have the support and savings that I did in order to have that space to recover. I can’t imagine the difficulty for people trying to do the same without that buffer. More mental health supports are for sure needed, but that is another conversation, although I highly encourage you to read Hello I Want to Die Please Fix Me by Anna Mehler Paperny for in-depth insight into the extensive flaws in the mental healthcare system. I continue to be continually recovering.
So, where does writing come into this?
In realizing how important resting, slowing down and stopping is to maintaining my mental health, I have also learned new writing practices. I have discovered this year how delightfully counterintuitive creative work is. Creative work, for me, is inextricably tied to rest. It requires slowing down, going deep into thought and self-reflection while uncovering and connecting pieces of my past and traumas. It involves putting structure to what I thought was mess. It involves making sense of chaos. I have never written so much than the beginning of my recovery, when I was barely working in an attempt to not to overwhelm myself too fast.
this is a love story was created out of prioritizing myself through resting, stopping, slowing down, and believing that my being is important over my doing.
To be clear, I am horrible at this. I’d love to tell you I’ve mastered rest, and while I do take more naps (with a timer on so I don’t get up too soon), I am writing this letter a week before it comes out and have had the busiest month in years. I mostly just have many things I have to remind myself, over and over again. Slow down. I can say no. I need to say no. What is my body telling me? What do I need? I do not need to be productive to be worthy. I am worthy by just being. I am divine. I will rest.
updates
As of the publication of this newsletter, the illustrations for this is a love story will be DONE! A year later, and Amber has created 20 illustrations to accompany pieces of this is a love story and add visual richness to the text. At the beginning of our contract, a year seemed like a long time, but it has flown by and I am SO excited for you to see all of it put together soon! The next step is… the cover!! I am incredibly excited for Amber and I to work on this together and present this book to the world in that way. Covers are so difficult, because in a snapshot you have to attract potential readers and demonstrate what kind of book it is. You as newsletter subscribers will have the first, exclusive look at the cover when it comes out, so make sure to keep an eye on your inbox!
I haven’t been doing as much writing because I’ve been working a lot, but I am doing a few Q&As for the Winnipeg Free Press to promote THIN AIR 2022, the Winnipeg International Writers’ Festival. Check out my interview with This House is Not a Home author Katlia, and Junie author Chelene Knight, and another one out next Saturday. THIN AIR has a whole bunch of exclusive content on their website, thinairfestival.ca, and all you have to do is make an account to participate in the virtual festival. They also have a whole bunch of in-person events which you can check out on their website as well, and the whole festival runs all the way until October 18 this year! In pre-pandemic times I volunteered at THIN AIR and it was such a cool experience meeting all these talented and caring writers in real life.
Happy October!
Alyssa