Happy April, and welcome to a month of posts prompted by Wego Health's HAWMC --Health Activist Writer's Month Challenge.
April is a challenging month, no doubt; it always seems slammed and flooded with work. And yet, for the second year in a row, here I am.
Today's kickoff prompts:
- Why you write – tell us a little bit about why you write about your health online and what got you started.
- Why HAWMC? This is our third year of the Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge – why did you get involved this year? Are you a newbie to #HAWMC or a veteran?
Yes, and there's the nub of it. "Why do I write about my health online" presumes I do write about it.
I have written about it with diffidence, saying I'm not sure I "should" write about it. I have not-written about it, declaring that I wished I were writing about it.
I have been urged not to write about it by friends fearing for my career prospects and the stigmas associated with my conditions.
I have been urged to write about it, to be a voice for others with the conditions, bringing my own special relationship with words to illuminate the experience and allow others to see what it is.
I have been urged to write about it for my own salvation, to save me from my prayer for oblivion.
I have been urged not to write about it because these conditions are part of the myth of the medical model and writing about them would be using my abilities to kow-tow to this model, like in Orwell's 1984, let alone taking the meds.
I have been urged not to write about it because writing about it confirms my identity under these labels when I should be moving away from all that and seeing myself a different way,
These last two urgings, ironically, may in fact be part of why I do write. Disbelief in the medical model and medications, and fear of identity-based-on-diagnosis informed my decisions for most of my life. At last, I'm here to testify that those things all have their place.
I feel a bit like an ex-vegan. I've come across a few of those on my travels, including an unbelievable number in Hawaii. All of them are eager to tell you chapter and verse on why it's so better not being vegan, even if you had never known them in their vegan days. Having abandoned a conviction they held so tenaciously, they are still justifying to themselves--and thus aloud in a high voice--the rightness of their apostacy.
I'm not an ex-vegan, and I didn't hold my disbelief in the medical model so passionately. I'm afraid I've never held passionately to any conviction, and I may be beginning to understand why. I don't speak much about my conversion, although I'm glad to tell all to anyone who wants to know. Readiness to tell anyone who wants to know, anyone afraid to accept care from this quarter, is one crucial reason I write, and should encourage me to write for a wider audience. Which may be precisely what I'm about to do with my MFA thesis. One thing I do mention here with some regularity, though, is the saving grace of a certain simple ionic salt compound.
Rock (lithium), Earth (carbon), Air (-ate (=three oxygen molecules)). Not manufactured in a lab.
I'll readily share how much it helps me because it truly opened my eyes. Opened my eyes to the concept that meds could help. Opened my eyes to a whole universe of human interaction I'd never been able to see before.
Final thought: the fact it helps so much suggests there is something to be helped. That can be so, whether or not one chooses to hang an identity on it.