Each of us have a personal method of healing from hurt and pain. If that is taken away, life becomes a misery.
My healers are my words. What I feel and emote, I do through writing. Composing sentences and quotes. Paragraphs and entire blog posts. Expressing emotions through short stories and direct blogs.
Sometimes though, there comes a time when life throws you such a painful googly, that your healing powers bite dust.
My words just vanish sometimes. I might be in deep depths of depression, and there is nobody to keep me company. Nobody to get me out of the bottomless blackhole. People, yes. They keep me hanging in there, so I don't get totally lost into the mire.
Other than these dark phases, all other times, my writing keeps me constant company.
It is like a mild summer day, with fluffy clouds of thoughts forming inside my brain. Then the words appear like wings and carry me away on a journey.
Stories happen anywhere. Something I read or watch, or something comes in a dream. Sometimes, a story forms out of idle day dreaming. Staring into space becomes staring into a new story or post.
It keeps me motivated and positive, the fact that I have this natural ability with words. It is my self esteem, my pride and joy. Without the ability to form a cohesive and wordy post, I don't heal.
I went to find my words. I came back beaten, but with my words in my pockets. I am defeated, but still unbroken. I am healing.
I am writing again. It is a small step, but a step nonetheless - towards getting back on my feet and becoming whole again.
To all who are low, hang in there. We will heal, we always do. Humans are resilient creatures. We always push back and make a comeback.
Hope lives eternal!
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