Writing for the Sake of Writing
I call my thoughts and blogs ‘brain vomit’. Often very little thought goes into it. Which, if you follow my twitter or read my blogs, this might be hugely apparent!
I call it brain vomit because it’s normally words that I have to get out. I am audio and word led by my brain. Not pictures. Words. I love them. I love reading. I can recall conversations from years ago. Weirdly I am amazing at remembering faces but not names. So to write to get things out makes sense. I can’t draw. I’m arty and creative yes. But not in terms of being able to produce art. But that’s fine. I have words.
A therapeutic outlet
It’s in my blood, writing. My great-grandfather was a published author - he wrote gardening books and books about the war. So, it makes sense that I also write.
It’s also an outlet. I used booze to begin with and that didn’t go that well. I actually gave up drinking because it was getting a bit out of hand. I’m also mental about my weight and appearance so whilst I don’t limit what I eat, I try and keep the comfort eating to a minimum. And getting weighed on digital scales to two decimal places regularly at the hospital curbs that!
So I write. And I can write anywhere. And I love it. It’s therapeutic. It gets the thoughts out of my head. Allows me to acknowledge how I feel and to process. There is so much rubbish that goes along with cancer, that if I didn’t get it out, my head would explode.
A surprising amount of honesty
People are often amazed at what I put in my blog. The honesty. The rawness of emotion. I don’t really edit. Or write, do something else and then come back to it. I sit and type and sometimes cry and truly be in my emotion for that time. And then I put it on the Internet. For strangers to read. If they want to. And sometimes I think why do I do this? Should I?
And then I get a comment. From someone else with cancer or another chronic condition who says thank you. Thank you for voicing how they feel. Thank you for making them feel less alone. Thank you for allowing them to feel it too.
But I can always write. And feel. And allow. And be.
So I continue to write. For the sake of writing.
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