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Why I Didn't Think I Would Ever Write Again

So recently, I started my freelance writing business up again. As I've mentioned before its been a few years since I was writing and there are a few different reasons for this. One was the job I was working at. Shift work in a factory is an incredibly draining experience. So much so that I really only had the energy to sleep when I wasn't working.

When that ended, I was consumed with planning a move, dealing with a divorce, completely changing my life and so on and so on. I ended up with my kiddos in a two bedroom postage stamp of an apartment and I discovered that I have a hard time being creative with other people breathing down my neck.

For a while, I thought I was done. Like totally done. Like never going to type another word, finito, pack it up kind of thing. My "being a writer" self was tied closely to my "being married to my ex". A lot of what I had written poetry wise was written to him, or about him, or about my life being married to him. I felt like I had used up so many words that when I had to separate myself FROM him, there just weren't any more words left.

I thought that there was a really good chance I would never write again.

Part of the problem, I reasoned, was that I tended to only write when I was depressed or deeply upset about something. I really didn't want to put words down on paper because to me, that meant I was getting depressed again and I had just spent months and months trying to show/convince people that I was really okay.

I was terrified that if I could write again that meant I was depressed again and that meant going back in the hospital again. It meant possibly losing my kids. It meant that I had tried to make it on my own and had failed. And that was totally unacceptable.

But here's the thing. I am writing again. And I'm okay (I think). Its a different process now than it was before but its still a process.And its a process that I have dearly, dearly missed.

Things are definitely looking up. 
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