Writing As Salvation

A few years back people who experienced or thought about adversity were talking about something called “Post-Traumatic Growth.” Along with the distress and confusion that follows serious life-altering events– losing a child, causing a fatal accident, or, I don’t know, becoming paralyzed -- there is another psychological current that can be generated. With many survivors of difficult experiences -- but certainly not all -- good things start to happen: you start to appreciate life more; you sense new possibilities, maybe a new vocation or purpose. Sounds counter-intuitive, but two University of North Carolina professors interviewed hundreds who had gone through these experiences and found that many reported these exact changes.

I should know. I was one of them. And the engine driving most of this change in me was writing.

I had been a professional writer for couple of decades, mostly in commercial TV, but by the day I became paralyzed in 1996, the phone had stopped ringing and I was completely sapped of hope and confidence. Then one Tuesday, this strange disorder, transverse myelitis, left me paralyzed from the waist down -- and terrified. I was 51 at the time. In this wretched condition, I thought, what was I going to do for the rest of my life? If I couldn’t get work with two legs, who’s going to hire me in a chair?

Well, you can only cry and fret or stare in the dark listening to Paul McCartney’s “Black Bird” for so long. All of us occasionally feel victimized as a state of mind. But when you are actually, objectively victimized, you absolutely don’t want to feel that way. A good hospital staff will put you to work relearning what you thought you had down as a toddler – sitting up, transferring, a new kind of potty training. As I started to feel good about accomplishing these essential things, I asked my wife to bring me my iPad. Maybe I could accomplish something else.

I hadn’t written much but boilerplate TV patter for a while. My creative well was dry. But writing, journal style, about the daily ups and downs of paralysis was oddly inspiring. I was free to write whatever came to mind – thoughts, dreams, going out in public for the first time. I knew I could write. I’d just forgotten how to do it.

I was relearning the only real craft I’ve ever had. Pretty soon, those journal entries became a book and people started asking me to write other books. In time. I hit the best-selling jackpot writing overweight Mafia jokes for the “Soprano’s Family Cookbook.”

And it’s all because I became paralyzed and started writing a daily journal.

What is it about writing, and especially writing about yourself, that can make it such a change agent? First of all, the act of sitting down and writing allows you to think through the whole experience. To quote the British novelist, Julian Barnes, “It’s the best way to be clear-minded and clear-hearted” in the throes of a life-altering event. Two, writing about your injury is a way of distancing yourself from it. Again, Barnes: “Terror and anguish are kept away by writing about terror and anguish.” When it’s on paper, you have a much different perspective than when it’s rolling around in your head, often in a circular fashion that can drive you nuts.

This is the way I’ve experienced the impact of writing about my paralyzed life, but I am not you. If you hate to write, maybe talk into your iPhone and transcribe it. Most people don’t think they can write, mostly because they haven’t tried. Like shooting free throws in basketball, it takes practice.

And one more thing: if you are writing about yourself to yourself, you will rarely lie. You are the first person to recognize your own BS, unless, like some others, lying is your principal skill.

I look forward to reading your story.