Dreams are made of these

Sometimes, when life gets unbearable and I can’t seem to cope, I pick up my pen and write…or my lappie and type ;p…and for a few hours, sometimes days even, I forget and lose myself in dreams… I’m almost always happy when I’m writing, the exception being when I’m pouring out angry words and venting. Even then, I always feel better after I’ve vented, like writing down my angry thoughts are akin to bleeding poison from my veins. Writing about my feelings; whether I’m sad, confused, stressed, hurting, whatever the emotion, helps me deal with them better than talking does. Hmmmnnnn, I can imagine sitting across from a therapist, him behind his desk, trying to look all professional and serious, me reclining in a soft comfy chair with lots of cushions, my feet up, and the pair of us with our noses in our phones, sending texts back and forth! ;D There are stuff I have written that I know I might never ever read, but writing them down has taken them from me, like a parishioner shedding her weight of guilt to the priest. They’re not my weight to bear any longer, I’m absolved of them. Some poor pass-worded word document is saddled with that responsibility now! Writing is my therapy. I wonder how I would have coped, where, if anywhere, I would be now without it and I bless God for giving me it. I know sometimes it can drive me up the wall, like the times when the little mad man upstairs goes crazy and Tipsy is feeling lazy ;p or those awful times when I get a block! :’(. But really, I’ll be eternally grateful for it.

With my writing, I can bring to life loads of people I’ll never meet in real life, go places I’ve never been! I can delve into minds I create, unwrap the mysteries of imaginary lives! It’s better than reading fairy tales, it’s like living so many interesting people’s lives, you can laugh with them, cry with them, love with them, bring them to life. With my writing, I empty myself of the burdens, take on the good. Sometimes, I find it easier to write my Father letters when I seem unable to pray. With it, I can worship in ways that my heart can’t even put to words…

Some of my friends call me mad (I even had a relationship end cos my scrawlings were a tad too much for him to bear, or maybe that was just the mad-me!) and sometimes, even I read some of my stuff and think OK, babe how far now?! But I’ll rather be a mad writer than a sane woman with no outlet for the mad! ;p