Why do I want to write? That’s a good question. I hope my answer is just as good.
I didn’t always want to write. I was always okay at it, insofar as grammar, structure, content and things like that go. But I’ve always felt that writing goes hand-in-hand with reading. During those times of my life when I read a lot, I used to write. When I put the books down, however, I had no inclination to write whatsoever. But that’s not necessarily a constant in my life, now that I think about it. I’ve been a dedicated reader (fiction) for the last few years, but I’ve only been interested in writing for about the last six months. That interest in writing didn’t just appear out of nowhere; there was a reason.
The year 2015 will go down in the annuls of my life as one of the worst years ever! It started innocently enough in January, but by February I was on a rollercoaster, and it was all downhill, and I don’t mean that in a good way.
Before I go further, let’s set the tone of my life in February 2015.
I was smack in the middle of managing a large IT project, and we were having problems: significant problems. I asked management for some assistance, but I didn’t get it. I was also approaching the two-year mark at my second job: retail. Averaging 60 to 65 hours a week between both jobs for almost two years, my mind and my body were similarly tired. My stress meter red lined so frequently that I developed health problems. There were a few other things going on, as well, but I think that’s enough toning for the moment.
One morning near the end of February 2015, I was getting ready for work – running late – and my mind just sort of crashed! I started stuttering and muttering nonsensical things. My wife called my doctor, and he thought I might be having a stroke. So, off to the ER we went. But there was no stroke. Just a HUGE anxiety attack. I was put on anxiety meds for the first time in my life.
Over the next few months, the anxiety, combined with other stress-related health problems, caused me to miss a lot of work. As a result, the perilous project I managed took a nosedive. On top of that, I ran out of vacation time. When the end of June 2015 came around, I was nearly loopy. I ended up being out of work for almost a full month. If I hadn’t been with my company for nearly 17 years, I’m sure I would have lost my job.This is a good enough place to stop the story, because this is where writing came into play. During my loopy phase, I needed something to take my mind away from my problems. I needed to find my happy place. It turned out that writing gave me the peace that I needed.
I started with some very verbose Facebook posts, but then I decided that I should write stories – fictional stories. And so I did! I’ve completed several short stories, and I’m currently outlining my first novella. I hope to finish it this year.
So, to wrap this up and summarize, I write because it helps to keep me sane and delivers me to my happy place. If you, the reader, have yet to find your happy place, try writing!