Who are Ian and Portland and why have they set up InkWell?
​All About Ian
Hello, my name is Ian S. and I am, ahem.., a writer in recovery. I am cautious about referring to myself as a writer for several reasons, which we can discuss once we get to know each other. I am in recovery from both childhood and adult trauma, but ultimately from addiction. These traumas did not make me an alcoholic - other family members have suffered similar traumas - I have just never been emotionally mature enough to process life's challenges, so my solution was to shut down my head with drugs and alcohol.
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At 15 years 364 days, I said goodbye to my dad for the last time, and so began the journey on a path I hope none of you have to take. I eventually found, in a twelve-step program, my last hope to recover from a hopeless disease of mind and body, and unwittingly, to repair the hole in my spiritual core. At 54 years old, six years after a brain stem stroke, I was still entrenched in denial and suffered greatly from 'contempt prior to investigation'. Another closed-minded know-it-all.
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Despite my mental and physical states, I finally put the cork in the bottle on February 27th, 2020. This was just the beginning of my recovery journey. I haven't needed or wanted to take a drink since, thanks to my Higher Power - who I choose to call God - and that 12-step recovery program.
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In August 2022, I found myself sufficiently free enough to start an investigation - through writing - of who I really am. My truth. I responded to an advert for a free group 'Writing for Healing' meeting in the Library in Halesowen. I remember feeling like such a fraud, but inadvertently I had begun my journey of self-discovery through writing, which supplemented the journey I was already on through the12-step program .
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I have been trying to write poetry and meet like-minded people ever since. In October 2023, I was steered towards a massive leap of faith - or stupidity as my internal monologue screamed - and I enrolled in a master’s degree in creative writing with The Open University. I had previous qualifications as an undergraduate in Geology/Earth Science, and also Literature with Philosophy, but writing!! NO. At the time of writing, I have recently completed my first year, and perhaps, if I am successful, I may become more comfortable in the skin of a writer.
All About Portland
In 2017, I had a stroke. Overnight, I went from being in work, supporting my family, caring for my husband who for many years had a life limiting illness to someone who needed care themself. I have ‘hidden’ disabilities, which can make it difficult for people to understand the impact these have on life.
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My adult children stepped up to care for both my husband and additionally me. I had to come to terms with not just what I had lost physically from the stroke but also the change from my position in the family. My perception of myself changed. I was scared. I was no longer able to care for everyone else, no longer independent, afraid to leave the house.
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I spotted an advert for a writers’ group not far from my home. Had I written before? I’d dabbled, but what I wanted was company. So I went to that group and things began to fall into place. I started to write not just in group but often. I wrote poems which explored the changes that I was coping with, putting words on paper when I couldn’t say them out loud, to see them emerge into the reality that I was living through.
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However, I decided to take this a bit further. Like most people, I suspect, who are new to writing, they wonder who are they to have the audacity to declare themselves a writer. Won’t people laugh at their attempts? I thought if I studied writing, then I would have some validation, someone else would judge my writing and declare me competent. So I gained my master’s degree in creative writing. At that stage I realised that it didn’t make a great deal of difference to my ability to write. The crucial ingredient was the passion, the enthusiasm, how much it meant to me. That’s what shows in your writing, what makes people want to read it.
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But it’s not just about other people reading your work. More importantly, it’s the benefit you get from the activity of writing in itself. While I was still on my learning journey, my husband of forty years died from his illness. I wrote about our life together – me, him, and his illness – as part of the work I submitted for my degree. Capturing the moments, the memories, the pain, on paper really helped me. It gave me time to reflect, evaluate, and find a way forward. Capturing the experience in words, tumbling from your pen to cover that white page with the substance of your life, shares the worry, the fears, the stress to a place where you can start to see the picture objectively.
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And this is what I want to share with you - at the very least a hobby, at best an outlet that supports your well-being. Join the community of writers and see where it takes you.