Personal aplastic anaemia blogs tend to end abruptly.
Following weeks or months of emotionally charged posts, without announcement, they just… stop.
This leaves my mind to flit anxiously between the only 2 possible scenarios:
a. the patient has grown tired of recounting their health journey and neglected to inform their readers, or
b. the patient has died
As I bring Faulty Marrow to a close, I can reassure you that I am:
a. still alive, and
b. still writing
After 18 posts and 13,000 words, this blog has taught me many lessons. The 3 core ones are:
1. Creativity is a healer
I begin each post with a single, crystal clear idea.
Attached to this idea is a billowing maelstrom of thoughts and feelings, over which I have little clarity.
Deconstructing the web of emotions that spider through my mind, and restructuring them into a neat written format, is both cathartic and revealing.
Often, I only fully understand the point of an article after I’ve ploughed through all the mental grit and gravel and unearthed one shiny pebble of insight.
Not everyone is a writer. Some people cut dance shapes. Or pluck tunes on an instrument. Brush paint onto canvas. Practise gastronomic alchemy. Weave yarn. Code computer programmes. Juggle balls. Make babies.
There are infinite ways to create.
Whichever way flicks your switch, keep actively bringing new things into existence.
However small, however grand – however deep-rooted, however fleeting – creation is a sure-fire path to understanding and celebrating your place in the world.
2. Sharing is an omnipotent tool
This blog was never meant to be a private diary. It was always an open communication between me and you.
I wanted to convey my experiences in a way that might give you a glimpse of your own life – reframed and reviewed, so it took on a subtly new slant.
Countless hours of writing, editing and re-writing for a tiny band of followers – and every moment has been an honour.
Because sharing creates connection – and connection elevates the human experience.
Again, there are myriad things to share. Time and space, advice and skills, tools and training. Music, hugs and chocolate cake (although this last one requires years of training).
Whatever you can spare, keep giving it away. How we share is how we thrive, both as individuals and as a species.
3. I love writing
And I’m pretty decent at it.
With that in mind, what’s next…?
As I take pigeon steps back to optimal health – my body infused with a functioning adopted bone marrow – it makes sense that a blog entitled Faulty Marrow has run its course.
From stark realism to magical fiction
For months, I have been awash with some very harsh realities. Now it’s time for me to delve into a story that has been simmering in the recesses of my mind for years. To explore the building of a fictitious world, born of my own imaginings; and learn how I can interweave a mind-boggling number of threads to produce one cohesive, engaging and meaningful tale.
It’s a large undertaking – and it is finally going to happen thanks to disease. A disease that stopped me in my tracks, tested me to an extreme, and empowered me in the process.
Hopefully someone will read it one day.
Because, you see, writers and readers are like the percussive and melodic elements of a song. Each one is nice on its own – but kind of flat. Put them together and – boom – sparks fly, light pours down.
Thank you for reading Faulty Marrow. It wouldn’t have been nearly as enlightening without you.