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Preserving My Sanity

August 20, 2010

In “Why I Write”, I gave most of the reasons why I write, but I failed to mention (or rather, deliberately left out) one fundamental reason why I write: to preserve my sanity!

I found out this a while ago, that unless I wrote at least a little bit each day, I would go insane. I have a constant excess of negative energy that I don’t know what to do with– a chaotic cancer that keeps growing everyday; one that I must prune regularly to keep it from spiraling out of control– going to hell and taking me with it. I prune this cancer by writing.

If I were to be honest with myself, there are many times that I hate writing– hate it because I feel that my inescapable need to write is controlling my life. I hate that I can’t stop writing– that I must continue writing in order to keep myself under control. I don’t write because I want to, I write because I have to.

Sure my writing is important, and talks about essential insights that could change the world for the better. I hope that someday my insanity will bear fruit, and that through my writing the world might become a better place. I delight whenever anyone tells me how profoundly that my writing has inspired them, although rare is the time where that blessing is bestowed to me. If I can make a living at writing, I will be satisfied; otherwise I don’t know what I’d do.

I don’t think I can survive without writing; it has become more than an addiction– it is an obsession. Writing has become more important to me than anything else, although perhaps this is in part because writing is one of the few things that was ever genuinely important to me to begin with.

I have no family or friends to rely on; even those that care for me cannot know me.

I am alone, and cannot trust anyone.

In this loneliness, there is only one thing that I must do, that I can do: I write. Because writing is all that I have. As I mentioned in “Why I Write”, yes, writing has become part of my being; I am a writer. But as you can see, while this may be a blessing, that blessing is overwhelmingly overshadowed by a graver curse: Melancholy.

Because I write I am alone, I am unreachable.

But I cannot stop writing, because it is the only means by which I can preserve my sanity.

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