I’m about to ask for help from a professional in order to get my book out into the world. And I’m scared.
I’m scaredthat I’m not worthy of promoting my book at the level it deserves.
I’m scaredthat I will be judged for trying to make my book bigger than a backyard social media sale.
I’m scaredthat I will be judged for trying to make money on my own story.
I’m scared that I will look like I have an ego and an arrogance about me and what I think my book (and self) can do.
And I’m scaredthat I will make it.
Notice, none of my “fears” include failure. None of my “fears” include losing anything other than the perception of an image I am trying to upload, an image my disease wants me to keep close. The image that I am not enough, that my story isn’t helpful and that I shouldn’t open my mouth and tell its secrets. The idea that I conquered myself and my preliminary goal by writing, finishing, editing and publishing and that I shouldbe done now.
Should, that elusive word that stomps on us all. That elusive concept that things would be different if they were supposed to be different. That cranky notion that reality isn’t exactly right now, exactly as is, and exactly perfect.
It’s true – I believe my book can help people, and I believe that in order to help the number of people I believe are still untouched, it will take effort and resources to reach them.
It’s true – I believe my book can extend beyond my own friends on social media, beyond the people those friends share it with and beyond my own rolodex of contacts in my iPhone.
It’s true – I believe I will be judged for trying to quantify my story by selling it. I already have been. (And it didn’t kill me).
It’s true – I have an ego, and this very ego gets me to do shit with my life and stop hiding and pretending like I don’t want to.
And it’s also true, that I think I can actually do this. And if I do this, I have no idea what will happen. Will I still work for Insperity and sell HR as a service to businesses in the DMV? If I do this, will my calendar fill up with podcasts and TV series and more books to be written and speaking engagements and a life I can only dream and aspire to live? If I do this, will I be rich and famous? If I do this, will I lose sight of why I wrote this in the first place and try to work my way back to the Earth, where I try to be right now?
In my core, I know it’s OK to have an ego. I also know it’s OK to lead a big life, and to want a big life. I know it’s OK to share my story on a platform that appears loud, but really it is this very platform that reaches people. Certainly, one person on the phone with another or one person sharing their intimate story in a circle of fellows helps tremendously, but what about the millions of other people who keep placing themselves out of helps way that don’t know how to get help in the first place? What about those people who keep themselves sheltered from the truth because it’s just too painful to bare? What about those people who don’t know that recovery can exist for them without looking a certain way, losing a certain number of things or fitting a certain description they can only access through movies and stereotypes and fake news?
I want to break those stigmas that falsely depict addiction and recovery in a certain way. I want to break the idea that we should be anything other than who and how we are. I want to shed light on the reality that is life, whether or not you are labeled with a certain ism and affliction.
And yes, I think I can do it. And yes, it’s terrifying to admit to that. It feels beyond me and it feels big, because it is. And it also isn’t. I choose to believe that the God of my understanding placed these desires in my heart. I choose to believe that the God of my understanding gave me a burning passion to spread word and fire and love to those who maybe haven’t had a taste of it yet. I choose to believe that the God of my understanding blessed me with an ability to use words, to relate them to you, and to connect us together.
And if I have to share my own intimate story and all of its difficult details, then so be it. If I have to pay someone to help me get the word out, get speaking engagements and podcast deals, then so be it. If I have to feel the discomfort and nakedness of putting myself out there on display for the masses to help somebody else, then so be it. Why write a story and not move it? Why publish a book and spend years working on something and then let it hide? I follow people on social media platforms and listen to their podcasts – how do I think they got started? I don’t judge them for sharing or being “big” – I admire them and respect them!
Fear would let my story hide, forever. Fear would write the story, and then pretend that it didn’t. Fear would convince me I don’t really have anything to say, so why bother saying it. Fear would have me let it go, keep doing what I’m doing (which I am perfectly content and ecstatic doing), instead of doing what might seem hard and what might feel too far out of reach.
So for today, I say in pure Alison fashion: fuck you, fear. I’m doing it anyway.