I am in a similar place as I was when I came off drugs 15 years ago- a questioning place. I finished my book on Sunday. Honestly, I thought I would feel happy or relieved but it is more of a sad feeling. I had this whole relationship with my words. I was constructing them in a way to illicit a response from the reader. I felt a certain amount of importance in those moments. In some ways, it was almost as if I was visiting with old friends. I cried at points in the writing process. I laughed at my own mistakes. Most of all, I felt something and that was exactly what I needed when I write about my struggles.
It is a good book. I am confident of this fact. I have let some people read it, although no one had read the final version because I completely rewrote the last 15 pages. I want people to hear my story. The goal of the book is to revisit the horrors of my addiction knowing there is a happy ending. I did my best to describe on San Francisco in the 1990's in vivid detail. Most of all, I attempted to describe my thoughts and feelings at the time. I know many people read my work are looking for some insight into the addict experience.
Now what? The crushing question of how to get my book out there. Honestly, I am not sure how rejection my fragile self esteem will allow in the process. Mostly, I am strong. However, there will always be this piece of me that feels less than others. Just like the fat kid that got picked last for teams at Hopewell Elementary. Or the only woman who lived outside with a shopping cart at my treatment facility. Am I somehow flawed beyond repair?
My determination will not be silenced by doubts. One way or another, I am getting this book in your hands.