Jeremy Hance is writer and freelance environmental journalist, who also happens to cohabitate with mental illnesses. He has named his OCD Steve and his depression goes by the name of Malachi. He is the author of the memoir Baggage: Confessions of a Globetrotting Hypochondriac. As a journalist, Hance cut his teeth at Mongabay, beginning in 2009 and working as a lead writer and editor for six years. For over three years he wrote the blog Radical Conservation on the Guardian. Today, he is a columnist for Mongabay, writing monthly articles under the banner Saving Life on Earth: Words on the Wild.
As someone who dealt with anxiety long before COVID, what suggestions do you have for those who are struggling to adapt to the new norm?
Oh snap. So, I think those of us with OCD and health anxiety find ourselves in a strange position. For one thing, this awful pandemic is kind of what evolution built us OCD-sufferers for. I mean, we were already washing our hands way too often. Wear a mask? Happily! Stay away from people you don’t know. No problem-o. Avoid crowded areas. Yes, please. I bet OCD sufferers had a slightly better rate of survival during past plagues.
Of course, at the same time, having a pandemic ravage our world has only ratcheted up our daily dose of anxiety. It makes taking care of yourself even more important, especially as the US response has been such a disaster.
For those of you who haven’t struggled with anxiety before, but now find it hard to sleep, feel like your brain is running a marathon, or having a panic attack in a bathroom… It sucks. It really sucks. If things are really bad, I’d suggest getting help. Get a therapist. You can see them virtually. And if need be look into medication.
For less severe cases, make sure to fit in some time every day to do something you enjoy that calms you down. This is so important. You are no good to yourself or anyone else if your anxiety takes over. Also, consider getting into yoga and meditation. Get outside and spend time in nature—scientifically proven to reduce anxiety and stress. Make sure you’re getting plenty of sleep and getting exercise however you can. Take care of yourself. Seriously, this post-modern world we live in requires so much of us—and much of it unhealthy (10 hours of computer screens a day)—that now is the time to start putting limits on things and find your own joys.
Many authors find their own bio to be one of the most challenging pieces of writing, and the idea of an entire memoir to be intimidating. How do you come to a place to assure yourself that your own story is worth writing?
I don’t honestly know. Really. I mean so much of writing is throwing spaghetti against a wall and seeing if it sticks or falls limpid behind the refrigerator never to be seen again.
I don’t think I’ll ever be certain that this was the book I should write. Really, write about all my mental health problems? And do it in a funny way? Suuuuure.
I will say this, I think it’s often less that you decide to write a memoir, and instead the memoir just won’t leave you. You push it away saying “nah, nah, nope” but it keeps creeping back in until you finally give in. If that’s what’s happening to you then, yes, give it a try. But I’d say don’t start with a memoir. Start with writing things that aren’t about yourself, start with getting to know the world around you, and the things outside you that you care about. If you’re meant one day to write a memoir then it will keep poking at you, but you’ll be a better writer for doing other things first.
What motivations in your own life made you decide to tackle a memoir?
As I said, it was more that the travel memoir just wouldn’t go away. The stories and experiences I’d had just kept nudging me to be told—and to be told in a different way than I’d done through my environmental journalism.
When I couldn’t ignore them anymore, I began to look at it more practically. Would this be a book anyone would really want to read? Was this book distinct in any way? Could this book have an impact on people, especially those who also struggle with mental illness or those who love them? When I felt at least partly confident about some of these questions, I began to move forward.
I knew from the beginning I didn’t want to write a mental illness memoir that would be a super downer, but at the same time I wanted to stay true to my personal struggles. I wanted to write a book that would be an upbeat read overall, but could hopefully provide some insights into living with chronic mental illness—and some laughs.
Any tips for those who are interested in recording the stories of their own lives, but don't know where to start?
I think it’s important to ask yourself why. Why a memoir? If you want to write a memoir so you can share it with your friends and kids someday, then I’d say just do it for your smaller circle and eschew a big publisher.
If, however, you want to write your story and then share it with the bigger, wider world…then I think you need to know what it is you’re trying to say. Not that you need to have a “message” in the book, but a memoir is still a story with themes (and life rarely fits into a neat story). What are the themes? Getting a sense of “why” a memoir can hopefully help you piece together what are the events of your life that are most important to include, because honestly the vast majority of your life will be left on the cutting room floor.
Once you know why you’re writing a memoir then it’s just a matter of doing what all writers do: stare at a blank page and pray for inspiration. And when that doesn’t come, write anyway. Just write.
