If you have been a writer for any time at all, in any type of way, you have suffered from a painful experience.
I have always been a writer. I just didn’t write. I wrote for the first time in years last year when I experienced a very painful loss, and by doing so, it reminded me of what my true outlet really is.
Unfortunately, I am the type of person that requires an outlet. If I do not have one then I do not digest everything properly. I hold onto it, dwell, and then explode. It is beyond unhealthy. I blame the narcissistic upbringing I was exposed to as a young child. Since coming to terms with that years ago I make sure I always have some type of creative new hobby to allow me to process.
I recently decided to start writing again.
I always felt like I had a story to tell.
It is not the one I am telling today or the one I told yesterday- but it is a story worth telling and if it does not find satisfaction within someone else, at least I was set free from it.
Memoir of a mom 