Lately I have been having a lot of thoughts going through my head. Usually, before I fall asleep I get the most creative ideas that I wish I would write down. However, when you’re in that almost asleep state when you struggle with insomnia, it’s not a smart idea to wake the beast.
Thinking back to my childhood, I always had a book in hand. In fact, I was so adamant about the Accelerated Reading books that schools used to make you feel like you’re advanced was my everything. Am I dating myself in this reference or showing how young I am?
Reading always came naturally to me. I always read at and advanced level in my younger years and I almost felt like it was an internal competition to keep indulging myself. Through the years I found that my go to genre was fantasy. From Gregor the Overlander to Fablehaven my mind was never satiated.
Reflecting on my childhood choices, and even today’s, I realized that it is much easier to live in a world where the impossible seems possible. It has always been my escape from the ugliness that exists in the world. As a child, my household was not very stable to put it lightly and so books were my comfort.
In my school years, more specifically high school, I found myself overjoying at the thought of creative essays and writing. Most people dreaded these tasks that I knew, but words came easy to me. I could get a topic and think on it for a week or so and make mental notes of my plan of attack. I almost always excelled.
When it came the time to decide what my next steps were after high school, I chose college and began on the journey of scholarships. Due to my childhood home life, I found myself down a path where I could write on my own experiences.
My senior year of high school, I wrote a specific essay that brought my english teacher to tears. She told me that my ability to draw emotion to my story yet separate myself at the same time was a difficult task. She told me to write about my life.
I still think about that a lot to this day, although I don’t know if I ever could take on such a task. Writing gives me peace, but diving into the journey of my life and childhood is not so easy. However, I have found myself privately writing on this blog for the past few years.
I had never taken it serious, yet here I am putting my poor writing out into the world. Emphasis on the poor writing as punctuation does not matter to me as much when I am releasing the thoughts on my mind. By putting my endless thoughts into a permanent place I feel relief.
I am by no doubt one of the biggest over-thinkers in the world, but I also feel the weight of everyone’s emotions around me so heavily it can be exhausting. I am always that friend others turn to for advice and I always seem to be able to give it without taking it myself. Conflicting yet true.
So that brings me to here, the place where I can just write about anything I want. What’s funny is I have absolutely no rhyme or reason to the things I want to write usually. Half the time I came on here it was during a panic attack to calm myself or just write randomly from time to time.
Only the last few days have I realized my passion for writing, much like reading, will not be satiated. I hope to continue to write my thoughts as well and continue to wherever they take me.