When I Write, I am Home

It may sound cliché to say that writing is the thing that gives me inner peace. Especially when I’m writing about it to enter a challenge. Still, cliché as it may be, writing is what both calms and stimulates my brain. Putting a pen to paper or fingers to a keyboard helps breath life back into my weary body and burnt-out brain.

When I was young, I was abused. Two men on separate occasions thought that a young girl, such as me, was nothing more than a plaything. A warm body put on this earth to give them pleasure. With one of the men, the abuse was ongoing, lasting for over a decade.

Writing was my escape. Often my writing was dark, even suicidal. While I credit God with saving me from my depths of despair, I firmly believe He used writing as a tool to help me cope.

I turned some of the poems I wrote into songs that only I knew – and I still remember them to this day.

“This life is so depressing,

It makes me want to sing,

About it’s many troubles

Hiding inside me.

I want to let it out,

I want to tell someone,

But it’s not all that easy,

No it’s not all that easy!

Can’t stand to be at home,

Can’t stand all the screams.

Can’t be with my friends,

‘Cause they make fun of me!

I get good grades at school,

But I don’t really care,

‘Cause it just brings be down

Even more when I’m there.

Why won’t you save me?

Why won’t you come?

When I call for help,

Everyone seems to run.

I need someone to listen,

I need someone to hear,

What I’m trying to tell you,

About the way I feel.

Sometimes I want to kill myself,

Just leave this world behind.

It’d end all my misery,

Then I would be just fine.

You know that’s not a bad idea,

I might just as well.

To anyone who’s listening,

I just want to say ‘Farewell’”

I can remember writing the word ‘BANG’ at the end as if I’d taken my life. In truth, I was deeply depressed and felt very alone. Thankfully, I never did try to take my life. Writing about my feelings helped to center me, to make me feel whole again, if only for a while. Words pouring from my fingertips literally helped to save my life and to keep me sane.

Depressing as that song was, I also wrote stories, poems, and songs full of hope and happiness. If I didn’t have a pen and paper nearby, I would write the stories in my head and rework all of the details until I was happy with the ending.

This love of writing has stayed with me into my adulthood and as I sit here writing about writing my world feels right, my mind clear, and my heart full.

I can pen my stories easier than I’ll ever speak them, my worst nightmares and my very best days all swirling in my head but calmly displayed on a page.

Writing children’s books has become a newfound love of mine. I self-published one and have many more written that I’d like to share with the world. At the end of the day though, writing them is where I find my peace. Seeing them on a shelf alongside other authors who I admire would be an incredible accomplishment, still, if that never happens, I will write on.

Interwoven into my soul, my heart, and the very fibers of my being, writing brings me peace. When I write, I am whole; when I write, I am home.