I’ll never understand why life’s twisted sense of humor dealt me the hand I hold, but for whatever reason it blessed (more like cursed) me with an irritatingly restless mind that drives even me insane. Despite being assured by others that the ability to think is a positive trait, I often find myself envying the fact that ignorance is bliss. And I don’t say that in reference to intelligence. I simply mean that I’m a chronic over-thinker; something that’s tormented me for as long as I can remember.
I’m sure many of you can relate, as my brain and I have always had a love-hate relationship. Sure, it got me into a good school and helped me start a respectable career, but it’s also wreaked havoc for much of my personal life. I’m sure you know what I mean: constant over-analysis, misinterpretations, and so on. It’s something I’ve always struggled with, and something I continue to struggle with to this very day.
Its for this fact of my life that I am so particularly thankful I finally made the decision to pursue a career in writing (something I never would have had the courage to do if not for the encouragement of my beloved mother). Writing, at long last, has finally provided an outlet for me to escape the constant nagging of my incessantly running mind. It’s given me the escape that I’ve longed for my entire life.
When I’m writing, the words in front of me are the only thing that exists in my universe. The surrounding environment is completely shut out; the manuscript being my one and only focus. It’s probably the most therapeutic sensation I could ever imagine. There truly is nothing like the relief I feel from the real world during the times I’m writing.
A perfect example of this can be illustrated by what I’m currently going through personally. If you happened to have read my post about a month ago, you know that I’m in the midst of a completey misguided and regretful breakup. It’s torture for someone who can’t find anything else to think of save that of their own poor decisions. That is, thankfully, until I sit on front of my laptop and zone in to the content I’m on which I’m working. For those wonderful, all to brief moments, I can untie the knot in my stomach and finally set my sights on something other than my remorse. Without writing, I shudder to consider how I would try to get through this.
Anyone that reads my blog knows how often I write about writing itself. I might be beating a dead horse with my many references to it, but that’s only because my love and appreciation for writing truly runs that deep. It quite literally has change my entire life.
I hope you all find, if you haven’t already, a safe haven of your own. And for those that haven’t, I promise you it’s out there somewhere.
An open mind and a leap of faith are all it takes to find your true calling.
How the World Should Work 