Writing can literally heal you. So when I say writing saved my life, it’s not hyperbole. Yes, it’s crazy, yes it’s dark and twisted, yes it’s painful and beautiful and did I already mention crazy? But being able to tell any story that came to mind, being able to work out the kins of my life, being able to find my voice (even if others would/will hate it) was what kept me going. In fact, the more pain I’m in, the more I write. Take now for instance, where my body is exploding in pain all over for no goddamned reason. I have been banned from working (my boss is super duper awesome), insurance sucks (who knows when I can get to a knowledgeable doctor), and I can’t walk very far. So I’m doing what I’ve always done when things are particularly shitty: writing. Working on my books. Laughing and crying with my characters. I’m one of them and I get to grow right alongside them. So bring on the pain. I have my weapon!
Oh, uh, if you’d rather not see my ranting and all, here’s the article that mentions the very real physical and psychological benefits of writing.