From a writer’s perspective, it would certainly be interesting if I had some grand testimony moving forward. After all, you only know what I’m telling you. But rest assured, everything is rooted in some truth. The cat thing, as you’ve probably surmised, is a metaphor. Should I mention that or not? This question crossed my mind several times while deciding to write this section. Would you find it more intriguing if I had been a victim of some sort of mischief? Some tragedy? TM, the overcomer. TM, the survivor of this or that, and so on. He went through so much to get where he is now, which is nowhere in particular. Fortunately, I’ve no grave tale to tell. Just a guy who likes to write.
Looking back, I’ve lived a blessed life. Blessed in that I’ve always come out landing on my feet. Opportunity after opportunity was graciously handed to me and slipped through my hands as I was reaching for something else. I built these beautiful bridges with pages of good intentions…establishing relationships with what seemed to be firm foundations, yet only in my mind, because they soon collapsed under the weight of the words I worshiped
Quite pathetic when you think of it, to not notice the bridges you’re burning. Oblivious while they’re smoldering for years, Then, you pick up the scent and it follows you everywhere. Curious that there’s trouble but too lazy to search it out. Eventually, the flames appear and you’re out of time. Fortunately, I was able to rebuild some of those bridges so that cordial conversations could once again flow freely from one side to the other. Others remain beyond repair.
But back to testimonies. There’s only been one traumatic event in my life when I was eleven. It was horrible, branded deep into my psyche like a fiery tattoo. Discovering that it was actually an issue took a while because I thought I’d settled into a cozy relationship with it. Skirting around the edges of it in my first book. I found this out the same way the other man did…in front of two hundred people. I never realized how powerful the event I went through was for years. But I was finally able to integrate it into my life. Someone told me it only takes one thing to imprint on you in youth, and then you’re trying to figure it out your whole life.
After my second divorce, I attended The Landmark Forum. During one of the sessions, I heard this middle-aged guy explain about how his father and how he had told him to stop acting stupid when he was six. That one sentence affected his whole life because his father died soon after, and he never resolved that sentence. The mediator brought him on stage; the goal was to isolate a certain pain that holds us back. The kind that steals our joy. After a series of questions, the man eventually broke down like a child in front of two hundred people, all because of a figure of speech. I understood perfectly. I’ve hurt people with my words…I know this and apologize sincerely. We speak without thought and write the same way.
Other than that, I’ve been the definitive source for all the troubles in my life. You know as well as I do, the darkness we dwell inside tends to swallow us whole if we’re not careful. The things we surround ourselves with, whether it’s work, hobbies, porn, gambling, or any number of creative endeavors, become little gods we worship or vehicles of escape so that we don’t have to face the truth. Not so much we, as much as me. I can write about trouble easily enough. Twist my history to make reasons rhyme and logic flow in my chosen direction. But I’ve never experienced some of the horrors or friends and family.
My life is a series of observations…based on truth, yes. But in retrospect, any semblance of pain and heartache I’ve created through my own bad behavior and neglect. No real struggles to speak of. Losing your ability to enjoy what’s considered a normal life…now that is a struggle indeed. Double mastectomy due to cancer, a foot taken due to diabetes, MS, depression, eating disorders, divorce, Parkinson’s, PTSD, death of loved ones…these are things I’ve witnessed in my family and close friends.
It’s easy to step into someone’s shoes and give a perspective. To write from a point of view through empathy. But I don’t know what it’s like to be homeless, seriously sick, or sexually abused, to have your family murdered in front of you, to have your home taken away from you, to be beaten for what I believe, or what it’s like to be in prison except for the walls which I create. Sticking to the classic, “write what you know,” theory, my writings deal mostly with past relationships. This I know. There are a few things from new projects and a few to add levity. To distract myself, and distract you. Other than that, to my friends in the writing community, I recommend HP Lovecraft’s advice: “Explain nothing.” Leave as much as you can in the reader’s imagination.
TM DiSarro
