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I recently re-started writing (again). For the record, I never intended to stop, but it happens. Cyclically, actually.

The cycle is as follows:

Usually, it starts when I’m feeling a little over and/or underwhelmed. Then, as I write and release all of those pesky feelings, I create room for better things and that’s exactly what happens: Life gets better, and I write less and experience more. I get caught up in the experiences and the writing stops. Then too much life happens and/or life spirals and I feel like I’ve lost my bearings (again), so I return to writing (again).

What, rather how, I write also follows a pattern:

  1. When I have experiences, stories and sadness that I need to share (read: catharsis), I write (usually in the third person).Some feelings, experiences and stories reflect my own; others are figments of my imagination, but they’re all pieces of vulnerability. Every (published) post is an opportunity, or platform for criticism or judgement. While the alternative could be argued; that being, that each post is also an opportunity or platform to receive praise and attention, writing has always been intrinsically motivated for me and most times, quite personal.
  2. When I have something particular I want to share and write about, I write (exclusively in the first person). These are usually reflective or rant pieces. (For example, this post).

So, what has sparked the return to writing this time? Work. (work, work, work, work, work…)

My job has been mentally and some days physically taxing. I was starting to feel like all I did was train, go to work, eat, sleep and repeat for 6 days of the week… but with little to show for it. Very robotic. Very draining and very, dare I say, borderline depressing.

I also live alone and away from my family, so coming home to an empty flat day-in and day-out can get lonely sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, I love, love, love living on my own and I don’t quite think I’m ready to be ‘domesticated,’ but no (wo)man is an island.. and robots need love too.. among other things.

It’s safe to say, I needed a distraction, or an outlet and let’s be honest– Tinder does not satisfaction bring. Frustration, disappointment, bewilderment, yes. Satisfaction, no. But I digress…

Ironically, it was a Tinder date that inspired the return to writing, so I guess it’s not all bad. Nonetheless, within days I was writing again (although it was only recently that I started posting) and here I am on several days later reflecting/ranting about it.

See, cycle! 😉