I hit a slump in my writing recently. In journaling, and blogging, and story writing.
And then I noticed I started to feel really purposeless. I wasn’t fulfilled, or happy with where I was at. Last night I broke out my journal again and started to explain to myself what was going on in my life…and all of a sudden I felt better.
For me, journaling organizes me. My mind and imagination need regular maintenance, and writing is the way I take care of them.
When I don’t write, my mind starts to clutter, like a room that needs cleaned, and I start to lose the things I need (i.e. my sanity and story ideas). By picking up a pen and facing my emotions, sorting them out, toning them down, throwing some out and encouraging others, I can get back to where I want to be. Some people might call writing a sort of therapy for me, but I just consider it to be the way I was made. Writing is a part of me, and I shouldn’t let it slide.