Guest Essay: Healing Through Creativity
Guest Essay: Healing Through Creativity
Award-winning author Melody Maysonet explores abuse, anxiety, alcoholism, and what it means to be brave.
Melody Maysonet is the author of the critically acclaimed novel A Work of Art and has been an English teacher, editor, columnist, and ghostwriter. After growing up in Illinois, she moved to South Florida to see how much greener the grass could be… and discovered that life is what you make of it, wherever that happens to be.
Maysonet’s second novel, What We Wish For, is a poignant YA novel that explores one teenager's coming-of-age as she struggles through homelessness, family feuds, and her mother's addiction.
You can find her on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, and on her website.
Content Warning: The following essay includes depictions of abuse, sexual assault, and alcoholism.
Healing Through Creativity: A Guest Essay by Melody Maysonet
When I was asked to contribute to the Anxious Dude newsletter, my first reaction was to say no, because I don’t consider myself to be an anxious person and therefore didn’t feel like I would have anything worthy to contribute. But after further thought, I realized that, growing up, I had a ton of anxiety. I just didn’t know what to call it.
The anxiety stemmed from growing up in an abusive home. My mom, sisters, and I walked on eggshells for fear of angering my father, and I remember strenuously praying as I walked home from school that he’d be in a good mood so we could get through the day without getting hit. Any mistake we made, we suffered for, so of course we lived in fear of making a mistake, even a tiny one like forgetting to put ketchup on the dinner table. As hard as that was, it was the sexual abuse that damaged me the most. Getting fondled and kissed by your father does something to you.
So yeah, I was anxious, and I was bullied quite a bit in school, for my crooked teeth, for being pigeon-toed, for being awkward. But mostly for being poor. I was one of the kids who, at the beginning of the school year, had to go in a special line reserved for those who couldn’t afford to pay the textbook rental fee. I wore second-hand clothes that were mostly out of style, and there was rarely enough money for anything “extra” like hairspray or tampons.
So yeah, growing up, I was definitely anxious, but it wasn’t something medication could fix. I did, however, find hope and solace through writing. In high school, I filled spiral notebooks with poems, short stories, even novels — all of them dark, some of them hopeful, and every one of them a reflection of my anxiety.
Writing boosted my self-esteem. I may have been ugly, shy, and weird, but if I could produce something beautiful, then maybe I was worth something.
Writing also served as a kind of therapy, letting me voice my fears and insecurities. Sometimes I shared what I wrote, and somethings I got good feedback. Other times I was labeled as strange or “angsty.” I got comfort from reading lots and lots of novels with troubled characters. They told me I wasn’t alone.
Luckily, I was able to put myself through college and get a decent job, but I always felt uncomfortable in my own skin. Then, in my mid-twenties, I discovered the power of alcohol. When drinking, I felt smarter, prettier, wittier, normal… at least in the beginning. Then the drink became an obsession, and that obsession took over everything, including my creativity. It got to the point where I literally couldn’t get through the day without drinking. I tried many, many times to stop, but it only got worse. For years, I was a shell of a human being.
And I hated myself.
Finally, when I was 37, I found recovery, and my life, since then, has taken a huge turn for the better. The meetings I attend have helped me immensely, and after a few years of sobriety, when I started to feel at peace with who I was, I went back to writing. My goal was to be a published novelist, but I tried not to let that get in the way of my creativity. Writing was a release; it was therapy; it made me feel good to produce something that other people might want to read. At the same time, I knew I wasn’t good enough to sell a novel, so I kept taking workshops, joining critique groups, reading books on how to improve my craft. And of course writing. I treated it as a part-time job.
It took me five years to write A Work of Art, and when it was published, I was over the moon. I’d achieved my goal! I’d become a published author! And yet, even though it dealt with a girl who was sexually abused, I didn’t reveal myself as a victim of sexual abuse. I was too afraid of being judged, too afraid of being pitied.
I wish I had been braver.
My second novel, What We Wish For, is about a teenage girl whose mother is an alcoholic, and even after I’d sold it to a publisher, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to out myself as an alcoholic. What would people think of me? I was a person who’d spent most of her life trying to be perfect, thinking that if I didn’t make mistakes, people would like me. But what I came to realize is that I’m a better person when I admit my faults, when I’m vulnerable, when I’m honest. This is a theme that the main characters in both of my published novels learn, and I can’t help thinking that, in writing those stories, my creative brain was shouting at me to wake the hell up.
And so this is me being honest. I have all kinds of failings, and I try to be better, but my struggles are real, and my struggles are relatable, so why not try to help others by admitting my failings? When I was trying to get sober, when I didn’t know how I could possibly get through the day without a drink, I got comfort from the fact that millions of other people felt exactly like I did and still found happiness in recovery. So here I am shouting to the world that I am damaged. I am flawed. I am messed up and flailing. And yet, it’s those very flaws that make me a part of the human race.
Thank you so much for sharing this incredibly moving essay, Melody.
Melody’s YA novel What We Wish For is available everywhere right now. You can also pick up her first novel A Work of Art.
If you are interested in being a part of the newsletter in the coming weeks and taking the I Am Anxious… questionnaire, please email me (scott.neumyer@gmail.com) and I’ll get you on the list. I’d love to have you!
Be well and keep talking.
DISCLAIMER: I am, by no means, a medical profession. If you need help, please seek qualified medical attention. This newsletter, while informative and fun, is no substitute for the real thing.
I love to see you in dialogue with writers, Scott! And thank you for sharing your art, Melody. Can’t wait to read your books and share them with the teens I know 🤗