“Writing gave me a new confidence, a new face to the feelings which were hidden somewhere in me. Adorning a piece of paper with my words was, and has always been a joyous experience for me. With the help of writing, I found a new person in me – a brave person. It has given me peace. It gives me answers to many questions.” – Mushk Hoor
Something happened to me to when I started a blog that talked about my experience with depression. You see before I started posting I never talked to anyone about my depression or my past, most that have known me have said since reading my blog that they had no idea. They were right and that was because I grew up being told that you didn’t talk to anyone about your problems, so I didn’t, not even my doctor, my closest friends or other members of my family. From the outside all aspects of my life seemed perfect and because of the mask I learnt to wear to hide my pain nobody knew what was going on in my head and the demons that consumed my days.
So why all of a sudden I wanted to write and publically talk about who I am, what has happened to me to make me who I am, and my experience of depression I am unsure. The only reason for writing my blog was that I can think of is that I had reached a time in my recovery where I needed to talk,I didn’t know how to talk about my problems with people so I had to trust my pen and paper or in modern talk my keyboard. So my blog was born and now people who thought they knew me have seen a side to me that they probably didn’t want to know, well that’s what my mother would have said.
Writing has definitely given me a new sense of confidence and has provided me the means to release the demons, thoughts, and the past that I have had hidden inside me for my entire life. I didn’t do it for sympathy or to promote the poor me card it was a means to get out what was constantly contributing to my depression And what I finally needed to get out. I was ready to do that, maybe not in the traditional form by talking to a counsellor but atleast I was doing it some way.
Writing has certainly changed the way I think about my past and my depression, it has given me a confidence that has allowed me to accept my past for what it was and to move from struggling to living with depression.
Yes writing has given me some sense of peace, and I am learning to come to terms with my past as well as gaining answers for all the questions for many years I didn’t have. My readers have expressed to me how brave I have been as a writer and in what I have been through, I don’t feel brave or see it that way it is just a way that I have found to be my way of talking about what affects me.
What I didn’t expect that has assisted me in reaching a level of confidence and acceptance of what has happened was that people would actually read my blog but most of all relate to what I am saying. I knew there were thousands with depression but I never thought that what I was feeling and going through would be what others felt too. I didn’t expect to touch the hearts of my readers, give anyone strength to seek help nor find friends from complete strangers who share the same experiences as me. For so long I felt alone in this world but to find people who understand and who want to talk is so refreshing and has given me more than I ever expected from the mere practice of writing about my experience with an insidious unforgiving illness.
Writing has changed my life. It has given me what my mother took away from me – the ability to talk about my problems. To do this means so much to me I have moved from being silent and like a boiling pot on the constant verge of boiling over to someone who has a way of releasing the stem and being somewhat content with the past.
Writing is filled with not only unlimited stories but gives a place for my words for so long I couldn’t express.