Highlights

Thursday, January 30, 2014

From Dragonfly: Why I Write

When I was young, I remember the first time I received a diary. I was in 5th grade. I wrote about my friends, what was happening on my favorite soap operas, and just a bit about the emotional pain I had. I was afraid to write it down, because it would make it true. Plus, I always feared my diary being read by my sister or parents. It was not one of those diaries that claims to be secret, with a keyhole and key. I could only hide it in a drawer.

As I grew older, I discovered a creative side. I was really into theater and film as a teenager. I started to write plays, stories and poems. Many were shared with teachers, fellow friends, and others. I remember one day my playwriting teacher looking at a one-act play I'd written that was partially autobiographical. He said, "you need to stop looking to others for your self esteem." I did not yet know what he meant, but it came out in my writing.

When I was 18/19 years old, I had a friend several years older than I, who worked at local gas station on the night shifts, near my college. I would often visit her for a laugh and a chat. If I came in crying, angry, etc., she would immediately hand me a notebook and a pen, so I could write even before we talked. She was a musician and a songwriter. She must have understood my need to write.

It was during my early 20's that my emotional numbness really got bad. I stopped be able to cry. I became more and more passive. I always thought I'd lost my ability to write because of law school (and the way they make you see everything with an analytical lens), but in fact, I realize, now, the truth: I was unable to write because I was emotionally broken. The same emotional issues that brought me to addiction. The same that showed through my writing before I even knew what it was. A new gift that I now realize my recovery gave me, is my "need" to write.

It is not just a desire to write. I've written over the years by choice - such as a journal about my every step during a vacation I took by myself to Costa Rica, some started diaries that really say so little, etc. But, now, it is once again a need. This need, now, carried on to my time here. I write because I have to. Doing this has given my time here purpose. I know I am helping others. It's allowing me to observe and feel and share that with you. Without writing, I would just be overwhelmed with emotions. Writing is my outlet.

My friends, here, all support my writing. My friends, on the outside, also, support my writing. They know that I have to do it. It's my reflection on the world and the world's reflection on me. It keeps me sane and lets me share the insane. It is how I think, learn, reflect, share, find substance, care, and pay everything forward. I need to keep writing. I will not allow myself to become emotionally numb, once again, due to the fact that I have no outlet. Here, people's outlets tend to be negative behavior. Some use creativity through the crafts. Others, they work out. For me, I need a little of all those things, but most of all, I need to write. I just appreciate, beyond words, that people, also, choose to read!

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