There’s no denying the fact that I write to live, and hopefully, live to write. For instance, I’m having a strong compulsion to write this at 4 am in the morning while still half asleep. Why, you may ask? Well, I was woken up by a violent crying fit and asked myself the question, “When was the last time you wrote anything?”. And there it was, my short-term and probably long-term solution to my never-ending list of issues.
I always forget.
I know my blog exists, the reasons I’ve created it, and the goals I wish achieve from it, but I always forget to actually click the link, read what I have written, and write for therapy.
2016 had hit me like a truck. Actually, it felt like I was hit by multiple trucks: new job, new responsibilities, new living conditions, new diet, new classes, new relationships.. My life was undergoing a lot of reconstruction and the overloading change drove me off the edge yet again. By the end of the first week, I had about 20 hours of sleep in total and 2 panic attacks within 4 days. And although it was only a week, it felt like a month had passed. I needed help and I needed it fast. But during the second week in trying to recover, I felt like an octopus reaching out all its tentacles to grab hold of whatever resource I could find, but grasping nothing. Finally, I reached out to a special friend and she asked me, “When was the last time you wrote anything?”.
And there it was. When I first realized that I had forgotten again. Then it only took me about another month to actually write something.
Do you love and take it easy once in while, my Little Ponies.