Why I have come back to this.

My whole life I have struggled to deal with my emotions. I have always felt as if I never had a healthy way of dealing with them. Usually, I just let them boil and fester till I lash out, or let the cinema they played in my mind drive me to absolute despair and darkness.

But recently when I have been feeling that well of emotion boiling up inside of me I have been writing through them.

I have created stories my whole life. My imagination has always run rampant in my head. It has been the demon inflicting the suffering on my soul. Writing has given me a way to exorcise them. To unburden myself of all that has troubled me. But what then? It wasn't enough to just write them, I need a way that I can take that page of text and symbolically give it back to the universe that gave it to me.

If I wrote by hand I would burn the pages. Fire has always been a purifying force in my mind. In nature from the destruction of fire new growth comes and life begins again. Except my handwriting is terrible and on paper I could never get it to sound just right. So I needed a new method and I turned to blogs. Yes I know I am not a teenager, rebelling against the establishment and throwing my angst out into the world, and sometimes it feels like I am doing that.

It was the death of my mother I think when I stopped growing emotionally. I never felt I had time to properly grieve through that. I always felt afraid to work through those emotion, afraid of the pain. It's was doubled with the loss of my first boyfriend. The guilt of his death crippled me. I felt solely responsible for why he took his life. I know now that I cannot take responsibility for what he, did but when he called for help I turned aside from him. I will never forgive myself for that, and the fear of hurting someone else like that kept my heart in a cocoon of misery and self loathing.

So when I tried moving forward, I was that 16 year old kid again. I didn't know how to feel, how to work my emotion. I had never learnt. I never had a healthy way of struggling through this mind boggling stupid state that we call life and I did the thing I feared the most, I hurt the person that I loved.

So I have turned back to writing. True I might never make anything from it, I might never succeed as a writer. But I have come to realise that isn't why I write. I write because creating these makes me feel better. It gives me a way to vent. To work through what is going in my head. To be able to put them in some kind of order. To unburden myself. This is my way of screaming into the wind, to rage against my personal storm and for a time to create a gentle breeze in the turbulent world of my head and heart.

I probably won't win any friends for this. More likely in the age of trolling I am going to anger people by showing how crazy I really am.

I don't know if I will do this every day or just every once in a while. For the time being I will just release myself to it when it is needed and see where it all takes me.

So to those I offend, I am sorry. To those I anger, I am sorry. To those that relate, then maybe we can be in this together. To those that don't understand, don't come back here and read. But if you get it, if something made you understand me better, or even understand yourself better then welcome. I have posts, and stories and rants and journal entries from the past you my want to read.

In the end I want to be able to express myself, but I want to create a dialogue as well. Good, bad, sympathetic or just plain nasty, I want to hear it all. Because the other thing that I have learnt is I am not in this alone. I am not the only one feeling like this, and as much as I want you to be here for me, I want to be there for you as well.

We all have fears, we all have worries, we all have that moment when we think we cannot live, cannot move on. You are not alone in this. And hopefully by writing through my tumult I can show you that as well.