Why is writing important to me?
Now that’s an interesting question. My answer?
Writing saved my life.
This post is probably the hardest I will ever write and I’m sure I will think several times about deleting it. But this part of me was the biggest influence on myself as a writer. The unbearable itch that tried to force me to pull the trigger.
Writing was the obsession that let me close my eyes, bite my trembling lip and stop my tears. No longer did I have to sit back and let all the terrible thoughts running through my mind eat me alive. Instead I can delve deep inside myself and put together an army of words that flow from my fingertips and combat my sadness. Words that make up amazing stories.
Writing. The distraction that saved my sanity. The distraction that has become my obsession.
In real life I can’t come up with the perfect words I can on paper. When I’m nervous, I stumble with words and trace small circles on the floor with my foot as I avoid your eyes. My words don’t flow as well off my lips as they do off my fingers.
After years of going through a lot of shit and burying a lot of things, my body learned to react to stress with a very annoying, physical reaction that I will have to deal with the rest of my life. At my lowest point I couldn’t speak a full sentence without forgetting what I was going to say next or even remember what your name was. The scariest part was knowing in my head what I wanted to say but not able to convey it through speech.
But even then I could still write and that thought kept me sane. Knowing I had another chapter to complete kept me going and always gave me a happy thought to look forward to each and every day. And when I’m feeling really down I can read my stories and those beautiful words always made me smile. It makes me feel like I’m amazing. Me, the shy little kitten that had been pushed in the corner all her life and felt forgotten was amazing.
All that negative stuff is in the past now and my relationship with my writing has become more of a great friendship than a crutch to lean on. I’ve molded myself into a better person and surround myself with positive people. I learned to become a more aggressive person, to stand up for myself and most importantly let my voice that I’ve fought so hard to keep, be heard.
I am probably a lot happier than most people I know and I value my life a lot more than they do too. I know everything in my life isn’t perfect but it’s good and good is better than bad. I can deal with good.
I don’t mind being people’s ray of sunshine anymore either because I know I don’t have to carry all the weight of everyone’s problems by myself anymore. I know when to walk away when I’m being mistreated and to let go of things and people I can’t change. I’m a better person and my writing allowed me to hang in there and find my better place.
My ability to write will always be there to catch my tears on paper if I ever feel the need. My own words will comfort me and will never fault in making me realize how amazing I am.
My greatest hope is that people love my stories as I do and that they’ll give them the ounce of happiness that they have given me.
And that is why……writing is important to me.