Let me explain.
I am, perhaps, too overly cautious about respecting and protecting members of my biological family. So, because of that I am writing my autobiography from the standpoint of a fictional character.
Yeah, I know, that's a no-brainer when the book is written by Vicktor Alexander. But in this, all of the names have been changed. There are situations I don't reveal, conversations that I don't remember and of course, it's all 1st-person so it's all from the character's POV.
The thing is, I'm stripping myself bare in it. Being completely exposed, raw, turning myself inside out and laying it all out there.
I think the dedication and the "From The Author" I wrote for the book (before I wrote the first line of the book) explains it all:
This is my story. This is the story of so many others that have come before me and so many that will come after me. This is not a story about being transgender. This is not a story about being queer. This is not a story about being gay. This is not a story about being black or about being a veteran of the United States Army. This is a story about surviving.
This is a story about forgiving, love, overcoming adversity. This is a story about truth. Understanding yourself, moving forward, healing from the wounds of your past and stepping into the beauty of your future. This is a story about living your truth, being yourself, realizing that yes, it does get better.
This book is dark and gritty…honest.
This book contains abuse, incest, rape, talks about pedophilia, eating disorders, BDSM, suicide, AIDS, transphobia, homophobia, religious persecution, prostitution, drugs, alcoholism, teen pregnancy, racism, mental illness, and even supernatural issues that may trigger some readers. Unfortunately these issues are an important part of the story, so be forewarned.
But more than the darkness, the grittiness and the brutal honesty, this book, this story, this truth is about romance. One man’s quest for love, for acceptance, for understanding and compassion. Something that everyone seeks or has sought as some point in their life.
Though Alexander Vicktorious is a fictional character, his story is all too true and the events contained all too real. Names and places have been changed to protect the innocent, the somewhat innocent, the not so innocent and the guilty as fuck.
I invite you to share in Alexander’s journey. Cry with him, laugh with him. Share in his triumphs, his failures. Walk his journey with him and when the story is over, for him, I invite you to hug, encourage and celebrate the Alexander within you and the Alexanders that surround you.
Hugz, Squeezes, and Fist Bumpz,
For those who survived.
For those who saved my life either through a phone call, an email or an offer of family and shelter.
For those who loved me and saw “the soul inside the shell.”
And for the ones who have gone on before and watch over me from above.
So what made me think about BBND today? A post about a friend who committed suicide last year. It brought all of that back up for me. Because he was one of the ones I talked to about all of this. He was one of the few who understand what I meant when I said "The darkness is in my throat today and I can't talk." He didn't judge me when I told him there was a knife in my nightstand that I held in my hand every night before I went to sleep. How I would sometimes look at cars flying down the road and wonder if they were going fast enough to hit and kill me.
I'm not always that dark, depressed and suicidal, I rarely am these days, but writing this book reminds me of that darkness, reminds me of those dark days.
Reminds me of the friends I lost, the loves that died, the baby I wanted but who couldn't stay.
That hurt that's always there, buried beneath the smiles, the friendships, the new family, the crazy, unexpected success I've achieved as a writer, I'm now reaching down and bringing up into the light to splatter the pages of my book to let others read it and experience it. The happy times, the hard times, the dark times, the light times, it's all there.
BBND is not a Tate Pack story. It's not fluff, I don't even know what classification I'd give it, only one thing jumps to my mind when someone asks me to describe it: REAL.
And a lot of things have been happening lately to make me think about the subject of realness. Finding out that two people online are really one person. My child being sick and realizing that there are just some people I just can't turn to. Feeling invisible, discounted, rejected, scorned, shunned, pushed aside, ignored, chastised, objectified, placated, and patronized because of who I am. Those things coupled with the darkness that I'm always going to have to fight against brings that whole subject of what is real, what is my reality to the forefront.
I've begun to hesitate on calling people friends and family, hesitated to talk to people online and I hate that, because it's not me. I forgive and forget. I'm beaten down but I always get back up.
I'm broken but not destroyed.
But here I am now and I feel like I'm at an impasse. I feel as if, with every word on the page, with every chapter that I write, that I'm losing people, because when you write about how someone from your past treated you, abused you, used you, lied to you, and manipulated you, you tend to notice those in your present who are doing the same thing. So as I write I'm looking around and observing, noticing things, wondering if that spot in my life, that drop of darkness is something that I can remove myself or if the person attached to it needs to be removed.
Because one of the biggest things writing this book has taught me is that I'm a survivor. I'm stronger than I give myself credit for and I've endured enough hell in my life that at this point, I can't keep inviting it back in to sit and have a martini with me.
So that's the reason my posts as of late have been a bit more... introspective and dark and real than usual. It won't stay like that. Daniel and I aren't together anymore (though we're still friendly), but I've still got my amazing family and someone who makes me smile when I think of him. I'm still writing. I've got amazing things coming up in my life that shock me when I think of them.
More than that, I think of my friend and I let him know, him and all the other friends I've lost over the years, that I'm surviving. Still fighting, still pushing forward. I may be broken but I will never be destroyed.
And that's something that to me, is worth blogging about.
-Vicktor Aleksandr B