There is no question, to my mind, that writing is a good thing. If you have read much of what I’ve written then you realize how much of myself comes across in my writing. I pour out the feelings and emotions that inspire the writing, whether they be joy, excitement, anticipation, or sorrow, loneliness, despair.
Over the years my writing has evolved. I started with poetry, which admittedly used to be mostly about love and relationships. My oldest poems are filled with the mushy gushy stuff or the tears of broken hearts. I have widened the scope of the topics but my words remain as heartfelt. It is difficult for me to write poetry when I am not feeling inspired by something, be it good or bad. I jumped into blogging nearly 10 years ago with the goal of capturing the things I learnt in life. I soon started documenting the random trains of thought that my mind encountered, sharing interesting things I found online alongside the insightful (I thought) observations about the world I lived in.
I have continued blogging (clearly) though it has been an inconsistent road. The tone of my writing has changed somewhat taking me back to the days of sharing what I learn as I go through life. I suppose I hope that I might inspire or teach others something through my own experiences. But blogging and poetry now sit beside another form of writing that helps to release the thoughts from my head.
Since earlier this year, I have been attempting to maintain a journal. So isn’t a blog a kind of journal? It definitely is. But my blog is a public space and has always been. Although I have poured a lot of myself into my posts, it is always written with the knowledge and understanding that it may be read by others. I say may because who knows, lol! While I do try to remain honest and reasonably transparent on my blog, there are aspects of my life that I am more comfortable not sharing publicly. Things like the details of my therapy, the inner workings of my relationship and my thoughts and feelings about specific people in my life will remain private. A journal gives me a place to put those things.
Journalling has been rough. I have wept over many an entry. But usually, once I’ve written, I feel better. And I did expect this. I have always heard that journalling is a useful tool, especially for those with depression or other mental illnesses. For some reason, as much as I love to write, I never took it up. This time, I decided to give it a try. And as emotional as it is, I can literally feel the burden lifting when I am writing about something stressful, or feel the gratitude grow as I write about something positive. It helps me sort through the thoughts in my head and often makes it easier for me to talk about or to deal with.
Journalling is what helped me get back to blogging. As I got more comfortable putting down the private words, I realized how much I missed writing in public.
Writing is a part of me, and I understand more as time goes by just how much it holds me together. One day, maybe it will be the only form of therapy I need.