How writing saved my life

raybradbury1

We are all surrounded by noise; noise in the form of dogma, white noise of television , noise of people who don’t matter anything to us and still we give space to their noise and many more. With time we fail to differentiate between noise and voice which is our inner voice that matters the most and give strength to that voice. I would have also become one of these autumn leaves fluttering away from the tree of life devoid of any voice; but writing saved me from drifting away.

Rewinding back, I can vividly remember the day when I wanted to commit suicide. I grew up witnessing the holocaust of domestic violence that my mother was subjected to which led to her untimely death and the same legacy was passed on to her daughter i.e. me. Abuse does not take the form of only being beaten up with slippers or belt but also verbal taunts, derogatory words, rebukes of any sort can stir a feeling of abandonment and a sense of hopelessness in you especially when it is committed by your own parents. Each growing day you keep questioning your utility towards your family and even your life. You keep questioning your self worth and the fact whether your life is important.So one fine day I was badly beaten up for a trigonometry problem that I could not solve. It was devastating and that day I decided that enough was enough and I cannot go on living this life anymore. So that day I decided ending my life was the solution to all my miseries, but before ending something clicked me and I decided to write a suicide or farewell letter. Turns out that I ended up writing a 5 page letter, lashing out on my father, sobbing after every sentence which helped me to calm myself at the end of this ritual. It was miraculous ;how after writing that letter I decided not to end my life. That day writing saved my life and now it acts as my therapy to smile at life’s blessings. There was no turning back after this realization.

Writing helped me work on my self esteem, beauty, passions and skill. It gave voice to my inner demons and shone as a beacon to differentiate between noise and voice. It gives wings to my thoughts and keeps me grounded. This daily routine of parking my butt on the chair only to ask and nudge stories that are closest to my heart helps me form a deep connection to life, people and most important to myself. I guess this is my definition of spiritualism.

Now that I write on a professional level and when I see the kind of comments when people read my blogs, it gives me a sense of purpose to practice this art religiously. As a teacher the only advice I give to students who come from divorce families or face neglect is to write and have conversation with their writing. It gives me an immense pleasure when a student who once thought of committing suicide took recourse to writing to fight trauma and depression. This comes as no surprise why the pen is considered mightier than the sword.

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