#Journalwriting tip: Identify any resistance you may have about “indulging” in journaling. Write about it, of course. Then get around it.

I probably hadn't "declared" my love for writing until about midway through high school. Until then, I had only journaled, quite often during the week. I usually wrote about feelings of anger, insecurity, or sadness. Journaling seemed to almost cure an ache that resided not only in my heart, but also in my gut. It seemed that if I didn't get these unpleasant feelings or situations out on paper, then I'd carry them with me for a long time thereafter. Writing the words that described my burdens was the most beautiful, freeing experience that I know will be with me forever. I am married to words, and no vows need to be exchanged because they will never die, and I will never die without them. 

There are too many good reads in this world to not experience the feeling of worthlessness. Especially if you're a writer. It could be a three sentence piece of creative work, and if I think it's good, if I think it's a masterpiece, it's enough to make me hate writing. Or, specifically, enough to make me hate my writing. I see these beautiful metaphors and imagery and ironies, and I think to myself, how the hell did I ever deem myself a writer? 


It's the writing about my sucky writing, and the writing about the masterpieces well existing, that makes me want to bang my head into a wall and then write about the pain from the sting of the wall. It's the masterpieces that make me want to draw another idea to that particular piece, and it's the spiraling emotions of this world, of society telling you you're good enough for anything, that makes me want to sit at a desk all day and write my heart out. Write about how I'm so cold inside, but my writing makes me warm. Mine, not anybody else's, maybe not a masterpiece, but, nevertheless, Mine.