Why I Wrote Closer To Ok
I have two scars on my forearm, nearly invisible where I pressed a knife to the skin, just hard enough to draw blood and not do any real damage. I couldn’t go through with adding pressure to the cuts. The protagonist in my novel, Kyle, does go through with it, though, and lands in a mental health facility. The decision to press down with that knife’s blade is a leap from a tall cliff. I’ve stood on the edge of that cliff, looking into the chasm, many times. One of those times is when I decided to write Closer to Okay.
Six years ago, my therapist suggested that I find a project – something I could do that was just for me. Self-care is always the first thing to fall by the wayside in my life. My therapist, though, brought an idea bubbling back to the surface. I’d had the idea a few years earlier to write a book about a woman with depression but did nothing with it. I thought about that girl all day while I worked, and by the time I got home a decision had been made. I think my exact words to my husband were, “She says I need a project, so I’m going to write a novel next month.” He said, “That’s not what she meant.”
I didn’t care, though, and went gung-ho into the writing process. I took a novel writing course online and tested some short passages that were admittedly terrible. I’d never written before, so there was a huge learning curve. But I kept at it. For forty-five minutes every morning at a coffee shop, I wrote until I had a first draft. Then I revised. And revised again. And again. And again. I think there were seven drafts that went through critique groups before I was able to call it done. Then, most improbably, I got an agent and a publisher. I never expected my crazy idea to turn into anything, let alone the real, live book it is.
There’s a reason I stuck with this book for the six years that it took to go from that therapy session to release day. It’s important. It gave me a space to talk about my illness without censorship. My book also gave me hope. In the writing, I had to look more closely at my depression and anxiety than I ever wanted to, examine the darkest corners of my brain for an explanation or motivation for the bad thoughts, the panic attacks, the triggers, my reactions. The book gave me more insight into myself and allowed me to heal. It gave me a safe space. It just may have saved my life.
At some point, I realized that maybe the book could be for others what it was for me: a space to be heard and accepted without judgement. To feel every hug and tear and freak-out as if they were Kyle, too. Many more people that I’d ever imagined have messaged me that the book was exactly that – a stranger reaching out from the pages who sees them and can empathize.
The best thing to come out of that therapy session is the writing. It’s a habit now. Every morning, I sit down at my laptop and work. I let my mind wander into an imaginary world and get to leave my own behind for just a few minutes. Those few minutes that are just for me are the greatest gift. A daily therapy session of words and wonder. Some mornings are sad, some frustrating, some hilarious, some joyful, but all of them replenish something inside me. The words keep me going.
I think in a lot of ways books and the worlds within them have always kept me going. The escape into worlds with no bosses, all the cake you can eat, and someone who loves you unconditionally is its own kind of therapy. Putting those words onto paper myself is a responsibility I take seriously. As a voice for those with depression and anxiety, I must take care to use all the tools in my arsenal to portray the spectrum of emotions behind what is perceived as only sadness. I must show our ability to laugh, love, and smile through the pain, because that is so much of life. That is our strength. And make no mistake, we are the strongest of all, those who have depression, because the battle with yourself is the most difficult to win.
At the end of the day, what I take away from the journey of writing Closer to Okay is hope. I hope I can write the next book. I hope to help others. I hope to educate and inform. I hope for empathy. I hope I can keep going. I hope I will be okay.
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Amy Watson is a native of Little Rock, Arkansas, but has also live in Chicago and traveled the world as a fashion designer. She is a full-time office manager and married mother of two boys and three cats. In her spare time, she enjoys baking, knitting, reading, and watching football.
Instagram.com/amywatsonwrites
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CLOSER TO OK
Weaving culinary delights with an honest, appraising look at how we deal with the world when it becomes too much, Closer to Okay is the comfort food we all need in these, well, crazy times.
Kyle Davies is doing fine. She has her routine, after all, ingrained in her from years of working as a baker: wake up, make breakfast, prep the dough, make lunch, work the dough, make dinner, bake dessert, go to bed. Wash, rinse, repeat. It’s a good routine. Comforting. Almost enough to help her forget the scars on her wrist, still healing from when she slit it a few weeks ago; that she lost her job at the bakery when she checked herself in as an inpatient at Hope House; then signed away all decisions about her life, medical care, and wellbeing to Dr. Booth (who may or may not be a hack). So, yeah, Kyle’s doing just fine.
Except that a new item’s been added to her daily to-do list recently: stare out her window at the coffee shop (named, well…The Coffee Shop) across the street, and its hot owner, Jackson. It’s healthy to have eye candy when you’re locked in the psych ward, right? Something low risk to keep yourself distracted. So when Dr. Booth allows Kyle to leave the facility–two hours a day to go wherever she wants–she decides to up the stakes a little more. Why not visit? Why not see what Jackson’s like in person?
Turns out that Jackson’s a jerk with a heart of gold, a deadly combination that Kyle finds herself drawn to more than she should be. (Aren’t we all?) At a time when Dr. Booth delivers near-constant warnings about the dangers of romantic entanglements, Kyle is pulled further and further into Jackson’s orbit. At first, the feeling of being truly taken care of is bliss, like floating on a wave. But at a time when Kyle is barely managing her own problems, she finds herself suddenly thrown into the deep end of someone else’s. Dr. Booth may have been right after all: falling in love may be the thing that sends Kyle into a backslide she might never be able to crawl out of. Is Jackson too much for her to handle? Does love come at the cost of sanity?
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Category: On Writing
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