Why I decided to pursue writing and how it changed my life

Why I started writing:

I guess it was around the age of 15 that I started to write. My life before writing was very tough for me; I had no escape from the environment I was in and, thus, I had no way to process and organize my thoughts. As someone who has now been diagnosed with OCD, not having any tools for this purpose was debilitating. I would come home from school, empty but also full, empty because I had to restrain my inner dialogue and put on a face, but full because as soon as I got home all the repressed feelings I had inside would burst from the seams.

The reasons for all my troubles were numerous and a story for another day. I do believe I'll eventually talk about my situation given more time, but for now, all I can give is this: my mental health, or better put, my mental misery, got to a point where I believed the only way out of my torment was to end my life. This was a thought I played around with in my head since I was in the single digits of age, but never before did I want it so, as I did at the age of 15. Then, around Christmas time of 2018, I got an invitation from my best friend Jye and his family to spend the holidays with them.

I graciously accepted the proposal as Christmas was never a big thing in my family, and I really wanted to see what it was like for those who celebrated it traditionally. When I first arrived at their house, I was still in quite a slump; I couldn't really feel the full spectrum of emotion as I once did. Over the next few days and then the next couple of weeks, I felt as though a foggy lens was lifted from my sight. The best way I could describe it is my life for the past 6 months or so was filtered through grayscale-tinted glasses, and over the course of my stay, I literally started to see color again. It was an odd experience, but one I can remember with great detail.

The train ride home from my friend's house took about 5 hours. During this time, I thought about the transformation I had while I was there. During my introspection, I came across a thought.

I can't change the environment I'm in, and if I can't do that, there is only one option: change my perspective.

With this newfound solution to my woes, I started to get to work. I searched the internet for ways to change my perspective in an unavoidable situation. One of the answers I came across was someone talking about writing down how you feel, really delving as deep as you can into your opinions, fears, emotions, etc. This sounded very appealing to me, and so I started to write.

During class hours, instead of doing the work I was supposed to, I would open up my book and write. Then, when I got home, I would open up my book again and continue to write. I first started writing short pieces about individual emotions. Examples of the titles are "Fear," "Anxiety," "Joy," etc. Under these titles, I would try to define what these emotions meant to me. While my environment certainly didn't get any better, for a while I had something of my own. I had something I could dive into and catch a breath, a reprieve from the torment of my daily existence.

I found a new sense of curiosity for what there was to uncover. I yearned to expand my awareness, and so I tried to do just that. During my self-discovery, I had another realization: if I benefit from what I write about, why wouldn't others? That was the beginning of my journey on social media, a whole 7 years ago. After a little while, my account started to gain some traction; thousands of people were messaging me about how much my writing had helped them. They often had the same dark thoughts as I. This brought me a new sense of community, fellowship, and purpose. I was doing more than just rotting away; I was helping myself and others too.However, there came a moment when my writing wasn't enough to stay afloat anymore; the dark thoughts were coming back. I knew that I needed to leave my environment no matter the sacrifice. This led me to move out of home at the ripe age of 16 across states to live with the aforementioned friend I saw for Christmas. Writing became a part of who I was, and I didn't plan to leave it behind with my old life. It was coming along for the ride too.

While I was still suffering with internal battles every day, I had purpose. I had something no one could take away from me. I was on thewritepath.

P.S. If you've read this far and you find yourself to be in a similar situation as I once was, I only wish that you can find some semblance of hope from this blog post. I urge you to seek aid from those around you, or a professional if possible. You are not alone; we're all in this together. I want you to stick around, okay?