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Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Hi all,

I have found throughout the course of my life that writing has been a constant companion to me. It has provided me with a way to vent my frustrations, to grapple with the eternal verities of life that confound and delight me, to explore ideas and concepts, and to try to put into words the often chaotic moods and thoughts that result from having a mind that's a little bit odd...

I have written lots of poems, especially in the last 3 or 4 years, dealing with depression and bipolar. They help me to process and understand some of the things that are happening in this twisted little noodle of mine. As such, writing has become one of my main forms of therapy.

One of the best things that I find about writing is that it can act as a kind of mood diary. I can read things that I had previously written, and it will quite often map out where I was at during the time of writing. The words I spread across the page act as signposts of my progress, too. As my self knowledge increases and my life journey progresses, I find that it affects how I write and what I write...

Often, we do not see the thousands of tiny little changes to our selves that our life experiences cause over the years. It can be very helpful to re-read old writings, in order to see how far we have come, what we have improved, where we have fallen back into old harmful habits, and the things that we have learned.

The language that we use in our writings and in our thoughts and in our speech is very important. It can reveal a lot about our selves, our states of mind, and our moods...

That language, it can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I believe that we attract certain kinds of people around us, and create (or at least influence) life situations based on our choice of language. It helps define who we are as a person.

Negative thinking, self-deprecation, self-hatred, these sorts of dangerous life traps are often revealed in our choice of words. So too are the positive things. It all starts with a glass. How we describe the glass and the quantity and quality of its contents, that's where language comes into it, and it can shape our very lives and the lives of those around us.

Writing... it is my solace and my main tool of self-analysis. It is my favourite form of therapy...

2932 replies

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In response to: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

As I near the end of the road

I glance back in fear

At flashbacks and nightmares

As I near the end of the road

I brush away the tear

That gently runs down

As I near the end of the road

I wish I could see

A new way, a road, a junction

As I near the end of the road

I wonder who I ever was or am

Who I could have been

As I near the end of the road

Numbness surrounds me

A feeling of peace

At the end of the road

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Former-Member I'm concerned for you. Sending a fistful of hope, sometimes it's all there is, someone else holds on to it for you. I'm doing that right now.

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Maggie thank you for your kindness, I made it through another night and am listening to the birds.

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Former-Member I'm doing the same. Blackbirds singing. An image for today.A fistful of hope

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

It's early morning

Too early for most humans

For a moment I hear the blackbirds sing

And my mind is still, quiet

I know this won't last long

This peace, this healing moment

Too soon my mind will be full

Of the voices tearing down any positive

There roots are far too deep to dig out

Branches to thick to prune

Yet in a fragile moment

A breath of peace, a song

Life somehow moves on

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

I feel so alone, so broken and so isolated... i feel there is a great deal of turmoil and chaos inside of my soul... my addictions and self medicating has kept me going for all these years... and I'm afraid I don't know how to face each day without the chemicals coursing through my veins...

The responsibilities of life, sometimes feel they are to much to bare... I've tried my best, I've acted a fool, I've lost all that could be lost... and now I'm wondering who i should turn too... I've searched high and low, for an outside influence, that can help myself deal with all the problems and dismay......

If I'm ever to make the changes i need to make... i must be brave, and i must, say what I've got to say... all that I've lost, will never be returned, all that I've gained, has most surely been in vien... another day on the borderline between sane and insane...

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Life is shit

I’m in a pit?

Beer clouds my brain

keeps me sane?

Sleep the day away

will I be okay?

All talk for us on media

just talk no feel ya?

Where’s the help we need

empty promises you feed?

Life is shit

definitely in a pit!

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

She stands there and judges me

She thinks she knows it all

But what she doesn't realise is

We live in different worlds.

She was wrapped in bubble wrap

I was left exposed

She grew up being a child

I played a parent role

My family had nothing

So they stole my dreams

Her parents had money

They payed the world

To give her everything

Now we both have children

And she struggles just like me

But she dismisses my struggles

Says that hers are far worse

Shes a single mum

I get that and her aching heart

And I've always tried my best to help

But it's never enough

I had to take a break for me

To get through difficult times

But she thought I had abandoned her

So she started spreading lies

Everything I tried to do

Only made things worse

I ended up in hospital

And she became an attention seeker

If anyone showed me pitty

She quickly jumped at them

Exaggerating all her troubles

Trying to keep the spotlight on her

I struggle mentally, physically and financially everyday.

She is a single mum mentally and physically fit and financially stable.

Her only problem is that she was left pregnant at the alter because he decided he was gay. They are even still friends and have 50/50 custody.

But she still goes on about how he broke her heart.

Yes I still have a partner

Who faithfully stands by me

But I was broken long ago when we were just kids

She complains about hardship

And tells me that

I don't know what it's like

And maybe I don't understand her pain

But hardship is one thing a understand completely

Because I have delt with it my whole life

I think that this friendship has run its course

I can't handle being around her anymore.

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

In the eye of the storm

it is quiet in the eye of the storm

a peaceful calm place to be

it is quiet in the eye of the storm

I see all my fear and sadness

it is quiet in the eye of the storm

I will be quiet, peaceful, calm

and stay in the eye of the storm

where it’s quiet, peaceful, calm

forever

In response to: Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

DeAr @Maggie

good care from you to @Former-Member

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