In February I started writing a book about my first year of treatment. I had outlined the whole thing, then written a prologue and two chapters. At this point, in April, I sent the work-in-progress to my best friend. What I took out of her response was the following:
* My writing was obsessively detailed.
* My writing was clinical and lacking emotion.
* She failed to see the point of it all.
I was heartbroken. Sadie tried convincing me that one person’s opinion does not equal the truth (and that she disagreed with the above points, based on the small portion she had read), but this was my best friend’s opinion. That counts for more than most, especially for someone whose whole identity is tied up in what other people think of her. Sadie asked how this would affect the friendship. I said, “Well, she’s still my best friend.” I guessed she expected me to go all sterotypical BPD and cut off the friendship as a result.
I did send a reply explaining how this criticism hurt my feelings. My friend apologized, and we did clear up some confusion about the purpose of the book, but I couldn’t bring myself to work on it any longer. I lost my passion. Last night, I opened the file and forced myself to read through what I had written so far. I felt good about what I found there. I wrote one more sentence. I woke up this morning and wrote a few paragraphs, finishing out a subsection of chapter 3. Now I’ve pulled the outline back out and am looking over the notes I made for the rest of chapter 3. I feel overwhelmed trying to figure out which details are worth writing about, but I also feel excited about writing again.
The other thing I feel is a need to get some alternate perspectives on my progress. If there’s anyone willing to read and make a few comments, e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org. I’ll post the chapters as password-protected entries and send you the password.