There are many psychologists out there that will gladly tell you that art, in its varied forms, is a great therapeutic tool. Drawing is often used with children to help them deal with whatever is troubling them, helping them to express their thoughts on paper, albeit in a cryptic fashion.
Writing is like that for me.
Sometimes I get these urges that are all consuming: my heart races and my mind reels at 100 miles per hour, and sleep… That favored pass-time becomes beyond my reach when I’m in one of those states.
When I get like that, I have to let it out. Either I vent at whoever will listen, or I write. If I’m agitated, I start writing soliloquies where my characters rant about whatever issue that is affecting their world (and mine). If I’m scared, the mind turns to those things that go bump in the night, and the Shadows creep forward to hide the Light in my writing. And if I’m as angry as hell, I start envisioning brutal scenes and down they go on paper. Depression leads to death scenes and often tears follow. (Let’s face it, I’ve written many a funeral scenes through blurry, tearful eyes.)
I can say with certainty that writing is therapeutic for me. I get those feelings out of my head, and finally sleep comes knocking. Will I ever share with the world some of those scenes? Maybe. Likely. If I look back over those scenes, they all have connection to the main story and more often than not, the rough draft of them is actually something worth working with. However, I can say that I can surmise what sort of mood I was in when writing those scenes, simply by looking at the violence and emotional levels.
This blog has become yet another outlet for my chaotic mind, helping me vent in different way, allowing me to get it out of my system long enough to actually fall asleep.
On that note… My bed is calling me.
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© Copyright, Judy L Mohr 2016