THE STORY OF A NOVEL
I sat staring at my psychiatrist. I was thinking—God I hate coming here.
“Koky, I know that you hate coming here. And I know that you think I don’t care about you”.
OMG he could read my freaking mind! I hated him even more.
“But I want you to know that you are wrong—I do care—and I am very worried about you, you’re not getting better.”
I kept looking at him and remained quiet. But I could feel my heart starting to skip beats.
“So I am going to ask you to do two things for me. Just two things. It’s my last effort to get to you. I’m going to be honest, I’m not sure what else I can do—to get you to talk.”
Now I can’t breathe.
“I want you to go home. And for homework, write down what you are feeling on a piece of paper. Next week, bring it in and do what you normally do—which is say little—then slide that piece of paper across the table, and I will read it.”
I stopped staring at him. Actually, I was having trouble looking at him. Why can’t I look at him! And why can't I breathe. Did he just give me a panic attack?!? Damn him!
I did somehow eventually look at him, briefly, then lowered my eyelids, and squeaked out, “…and what’s the second thing you want me to do?”
“The second thing I want you to do, Koky, is stop lying to me.”
***
And so I starting writing.
And I stopped lying.
I discovered I liked it. It helped me to organise my feelings! So I kept writing and writing and writing. Everyday I wrote. My own personal olympics.
Until on the 28th of November 2016. As a birthday present to myself, I finished the first draft of my first novel.
It is about a boy who runs away from home with his little sister. To find a cure to save her life.
I hope when the time comes to share this story (the biggest I will ever tell) that you find some time to read it and let me know what you think.
* A lot of my time in the shop, is spent writing bits and pieces of my novel.
***
Afterword:
I’m working on the second draft of my first novel now. It is twice the length of the first Harry Potter book.
Sometimes because I want to and for practice, I write all these little short stories. Usually 300-700 words. I have over 200 of them! Not all of them are about grief and time and sadness. I promise! These stories are actually snippets, a window, into my heart and soul. They are a collection of some of my greatest life lessons, learnt from moments in my life. Sometimes significant moments and sometimes seemingly mundane moments.
The feedback I’ve recently received from sharing my stories has been just so beautiful and it gives me so much energy and inspiration and energy to write and share more of them. So if you do like them let me know by commenting. And if it inspires you, please share. That would mean the world to me.
I will share one story a month. I hope you enjoyed this bonus story about my psychiatrist.
Much much love. Koky x
I can relate to your story.
It’s funny but back when I had really serious social anxiety I couldn’t talk to most people in person but spent a huge amount of time messaging online friends everyday and had completely no problem with that. After I could actually talk to people, there were still some ocassions where I had to message people right next to me, when I got too emotional and “locked up” and couldn’t speak. I’d like to think that I no longer need to do that these days, but it’s interesting that writing has never been an issue for me with expression.
I appreciate that you write about your mental health. I wish it wasn’t such a taboo topic.
Thanks Koky