Thanks to everyone who read and commented on my first blog. I was petrified about sharing my true feelings, so I appreciate all of your support. It truly means the world to me to know that you guys have my back.
I’d especially like to thank Arsoleen Woodcock for giving me an “aha” moment–as Oprah would put it. Thanks to her comment, I realized something. I can write!
I mean, duh! I can write and well, I’m actually pretty good at it. At least my readers seem to think so , and isn’t their opinion all that matters?
So a thought occurred to me: instead of eating to relieve stress, why not just write?!
I at first saw writing as a talent that God gave me to live life as I always dreamed—with freedom. With a profession in writing, I’m free to make my own decisions and my own rules, free of the drudgery of a standard 9 to 5. But maybe writing is more than that. Maybe it is my refuge, my salvation of sorts.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not trying to trade in one addiction for another. I know that God is the key to getting over my issues. But what it, just what if writing is part of my healing process?
Maybe writing can save my life. Maybe, just maybe.
That’s all. Just wanted to share those thoughts with you all.
Bye for now.