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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

Thanks for your comments @StuF

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@BlueBay Beautifully written, I can definitely identify with the fear you speak of and also of not caring about anything. Hang in there and keep writing and please keep sharing. xx

BB 🐰💙

In response to: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Silenus Much respect to you and great thanks for giving us a place to express ourselves! xx

BB 🐰💙

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

This one seemed appropriate for current Winter lockdown feels. xx
BB 🐰💙


@Bunniekins
@Former-Member @Anastasia @Shaz51 @frog @HenryX @Dimity @Judi9877 @Meowmy @Appleblossom @Mazarita @TideisTurning @rivergal @StuF @BlueBay @Silenus

Concrete In The Veins

It’s foggy, it’s numbing, it’s frightfully dense,

This mood upon waking, is not making sense,

I try to remember, but nothing retains,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

Not angry, nor anxious, just bland to the thought,

Too dulled for misgivings, to slow to retort,

The pressure is deep, I’m asleep at the reins,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

The horse has now bolted, the reins are a flap,

I’m dazed and I’m powerless, reading this map,

My eyes are all clouded, I’m fastened by chains,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

Constricted emotions, I feel like the dead,

Are wandering fruitlessly round in my head,

A zombie drug, nonsense, society claims,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

A look that is hollow, a voice that won’t speak,

A haunted demeanour that shadows the weak,

My heart feels abandoned, so little remains,

I guess it’s just concrete, that runs in my veins.

I long for the days where I tiptoe through time,

My mind all agog, like a Dr. Seuss rhyme,

Replenished with love on the happiness train,

Alas there’s still concrete, that runs in my veins.

© BB - 13 Oct 2020

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny you inspired to give my take on winter days

Soul's winter

Grey light all daylight, chill in air

Dull ache in heart-hollow, in throbbing emptiness of skin's shell
Scalp and fingers spark and tingle but eyes converge on dark horizon (the vanishing point)
Awake and fearing sleep, but clinging to sleep in dread of morrow
Calendar pages turn and drop in this vestibule of eternity
Dimity

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@Dimity Wonderful verse my friend,

"Calendar pages turn and drop in this vestibule of eternity"

Wow I hear that! xx

BB 🐰💙

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny thanks BB

I must admit I also feel the concrete in the veins!

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

Thanks @bipolarbunny for your support writing here is the only place I feel I can be me. Snd write exactly how I feel. It may not rhyme or make sense but that's me. I'm not great at writing.

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny wow, just wow ❣️

Also wow @Dimity 💕

Hello @BlueBay ❤️

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

Re: Writing As A Form Of Therapy

@bipolarbunny @Dimity @BlueBay

Please all keep sharing 🙂

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