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That I have always been inclined to write has long been my bulwark against the blues.  As a young girl, I remember waking early to the blessed quiet of Sunday mornings, trying to write short stories in the style of Nancy Drew or Trixie Beldon mysteries.  But fiction did not come easy, for my head was blocked by a reality I could not express, only sought to escape. 

 Aside from amassing a travel trunk full of journals since the age of sixteen, most of my writing has been in the form of poetry and literary non-fiction for rather obscure audiences. Committing to seriously writing a book was something I thought I would do in that hypothetical time of life known as retirement.  But in 1994, at the age of 32, life was rapidly closing in on me in the form of near debilitating depression and alcohol abuse.  On March 14^th of that year, I experienced what I refer to as my “frozen moment”; an uncanny moment of supreme clarity that somehow edged through the turmoil and chaos within.  In absolute despair about my reason for living, my therapist at that time encouraged me to take a leap of faith, to embrace the creative fire within, and do what I would do if I had only six months to live.  Ultimately, what was one of the riskiest decisions of my life was one of the wisest.  Although it entailed resigning from a well-paid government job, writing this book truly saved my life at that time.  Furthermore, I had the infinitely good fortune of having a partner to support me financially during that time.  Although our relationship was in tatters, it was a last ditch effort before separation; to be sure, the decision would either make or break us.  Make no mistake: the decision to write this book and not bring in an income for the next 5 years, was the hardest work I had ever done up until then. 

 In many ways, I feel as if I have traveled a lifetime since beginning this book in March 1994.  During the years that followed, in between cycles of depression and drinking, I somehow managed to create a manuscript worthy of the esteemed June Callwood’s attention.  It was to June, that destiny guided me, back in early 1997, by virtue of the North York Public Library’s Writer-in-Residence Program.  It was ever so humbling to meet her that blustery March day, a woman, journalist, writer and social activist of unparalleled integrity and humanism.  Her faith, inspiration and encouragement over the years have truly been remarkable.  Her belief that words, which would much prefer silence, deserved to be written kept me going.  Six years later, she was right:  books do take much longer than babies!

“And you may ask yourself – well – how did I get here?

And you may ask yourself – how do I work this?

And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?”

(Talking Heads, 1984 – ‘Once in a Lifetime’)

(Monday, April 28, 2003)  It’s been almost twenty years since those lyrics kept me company through many a drunken evening, and on many a wretched morning after.

Today, they come rushing back.  Now that my first book, Afraid of the Day:   a daughter’s journey, has been published by Women’s Press, I will be out in a very public way, particularly after the book launch on Wednesday, May 21^st.  Already, I can hear those Talking Heads lyrics keeping me up all night and taunting me when I wake up on the infamous morning after…the loudest line of all will surely be “MY GOD…WHAT HAVE I DONE?”

 Most people that know me know that I work part-time at the Toronto Public Library. Many know that I write; my close friends know I’ve been working on a book since 1994 about my family’s roller coaster rides into the deep dark hell of my mother’s clinical depressions.   As word slowly but surely gets out about this book, for better for worse, I will be “poly-outed”:

Out as a writer.
Out as the offspring of depressed parents.
Out as a gay woman.
Out as a virtual lifelong sufferer of depression.
Out as being under psychiatric care.
Out as being on antidepressant medication.
Out as a former substance abuser (drinking, drugs, cigarettes and food)
Out as a former client of the Jean Tweed Centre

But until that morning after, I am relishing this relative calm before the storm. 

 So…”how did I get here?”

Last July, the universe conspired that I should meet Althea Prince, Managing Editor of Women’s Press.  Within a few short weeks, after years of the most encouraging of rejection letters from other publishers,  I was offered a contract with the Press, and Althea became my self-described mid-wife; a luckier author, there has never been.  Goodness knows I have Publisher Jack Wayne to thank for his trust in Althea’s judgement:   the proof is in the pudding of the photocopy I made and framed of the advance-on-royalties cheque he saw fit to present me with.

Fast forward to this day, nine months later, when the cream of Production Editors / Doula Rebecca Conolly called to tell me the stork had arrived in her office.  Incredible but true:  nine years after conception, a 41 year old woman gave birth to her first book. 

But quite unlike a proud parent, I chose not to call friends or family about the newborn.  I chose not to shake up and pop the cork race-car-driver-like on a champagne bottle I had been saving for the occasion.  Instead, I treated myself to Margaret Atwood’s Oryx and Crake (in which, incidentally, one of the characters has a depressed mother), and began reading it in that precious still-light time of dusk on my deck.   While the evening flickers chirped, I was aware of the surreal peace that engulfed me.  And you know what?  In many ways, I felt even luckier than Margaret Atwood, who probably seldom has chance to bask in such solitude (gone are the days when she can read her own book anonymously on the subway – which I admit to doing!).

And so, “how do I work this?” 

Thanks to sales and marketing wizards / labor and delivery team Renee Knapp, Heather Bruder and Cheryl Steele and my web woman Carol Garry, the solitude will be short-lived, as this book is destined to “have legs” that will be further propelled by two very cool guys, publicists Clifton Joseph and Dalton Higgins.  I was only slightly exaggerating when I told them “I’m gay, but nobody really knows it.”   This prompted the question of whether or not I want them to promote my book in the gay media.  If so, was I prepared to be regarded as a gay writer as opposed to a writer who happens to be gay? On one hand, I appreciated their attention to that not so small matter.  On the other, this book is not about me as much as it is a way to reach and validate other people's experiences with the insidiousness of depression and her mad sisters chaos and addiction.  Furthermore, for years, my depression and substance abuse issues were directly related to my sexuality.  Hence, why would I want to shy away from the "gay press"?  Similarly, I have volunteered to have my mug shot on the side of a bus for the Jean Tweed Centre (a la United Way Campaigns) if it would help put a face to addiction (such as it is - the face I mean!).  Every time Community Development Director Nanci Harris calls, I brace myself for hearing her announce that the bus has arrived…

“Am I right?  Am I wrong?”

Most importantly, I wrote this book to help break through the crippling silence that still exists around mental illness.  There was a reason I chose a Plato quote at the beginning of my book:

"We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when adults are afraid of the light."

If one less person is less afraid of coming out, on whatever front, as a result of reading my book, or even this article, than I have accomplished something in this life…gay or not…

Page last updated
08/07/03 03:16 PM

DE   S    I   D   E   R   A   T   A

"Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.

Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham,
drudgery and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy."

Max Ehrmannn. © Robert L. Bell