And I am reminded why I married this man…
So I’ve been depressed for a while now. I haven’t been able to nail it down until lately and now I realize it is because of my lack of writing.
I used to write at the least every other day. I used to have notebooks filled with many different stories that I would add to on a regular basis. It was the way that I stayed sane. In addition I also kept a diary and filled it with all my daily activities and concerns.
I haven’t done that in a very long time. It’s not something I consciously stopped doing. It just sort of petered off…I didn’t think much about it at the time. It was such a small thing in my usual routine and something that I did so regularly that I guess it just became obsolete.
There is a quote that I once read from Stephen King(if you know me, you know he is like, my idol as far as writing goes.) that I can’t find currently but it says something to the effect that: a writer writes, not because he can…but because it is suicide not to.
That is sooo true to me. Writing clears my mind. It makes me happier in my every day life no matter what I am writing about…even if it is something as stupid as fan fiction(which by the way, didn’t have a name when I was 15 and writing about my successful marriage to the lead singer of Europe, Joey Tempest!) or something as serious as abuse.
I haven’t been able to write for a while. I’ve been sort of inwardly freaking about this. I didn’t say anything to anyone because, well, I never mentioned it to anyone when I used to write so why would anyone be concerned now that I can’t.
It came up in a conversation tonight with my husband and without blinking an eye he told me the reason why I haven’t been able to write. And it so makes sense.
I’ve never had another creative outlet. I honestly haven’t, other than pretending to sing to an audience in my living room when I was a kid.
In the last year that I have been acting, I have been lacking the writing bug. I’ve just had no interest. All my creative energy has been put into singing or acting in a play and I have no regrets on that. It just seems to have left all my writing juices depleted.
It sounds so simple but it makes me feel so relieved to know that it isn’t gone. I’m just channeling it into a different area and it will be back when I chose to take it back.
I’m not done with writing as I had feared…I’m just expanding my creativity and I’m actually quite pleased about that.
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