Eventually, you start thinking of your own ideas, your own writing style, and you put it to work. You fall in love with the idea that an empty piece of paper is like a blank canvas. You realize just how amazing it is that anything that comes to your mind can be written down on paper.

Reading and writing eventually become your escape from reality. You ignore all the chaotic things happening around you and zone out. It keeps you distracted from the fact that your parents are constantly fighting. It distracts you from how your dad screams and yells at you for mistakes he made. You continue to read and write, until school takes that love and crushes it into a million pieces.

You go from enjoying writing to dreading the idea of ever scribbling words on a piece of paper ever again. Schools force you to read and write for a grade. You think to yourself that this isn’t fun anymore. You become depressed and frustrated; you begin to wonder why you ever enjoyed reading or writing in the first place. You know that it was fun as a kid, but that’s all you believe it to be at this point: a childhood hobby. It’s a rough couple of years from there. You soon get piles and piles of homework. The idea of coming home at the end of the day isn’t something to look forward to, it’s now one of the worst parts of the day. What was once your escape has now become your prison.

You come home and not only have to deal with your dad yelling at you all the time, but also, mountains of homework. You start wondering if this is what life is all about. Wake up, school, homework, sleep, repeat. Your days start to blend together, and you start to forget what you’re doing here in the first place.

Every time you present your projects, all the class does is stare and judge. They laugh at you. They make fun of you. They think you’re a complete idiot. Everything you do is wrong. You try your hardest, but it’s never enough. You try to be perfect, but it’s never perfect enough. The worst part about it is that no one even realizes the struggles you go through. The feelings of loneliness and anger you experience on a daily basis.

You’re scared. You hear voices telling you that everything you do is wrong. That your life isn’t worth living. Eventually, tired of being ignored, you tell your parents how you feel. They start you in therapy, but it doesn’t make much of a difference.

You find yourself unable to find any reasoning as to why you’re necessary to the world. You start believing the voices and get sent into an unlivable mental state. You start taking antidepressants, but all they do is make you utterly numb. You can’t cry, you can’t sleep, you can’t feel. You’re exhausted, both mentally and physically. You don’t have the energy to wake up and get ready for the day. You feel empty. There’s nothing you can do to save yourself from yourself. Eventually, it gets so bad that you need to be admitted to a psychiatric ward.

You’re there for more than a month, but it doesn’t help. You pick up other unhealthy habits while you’re there. It starts off as something you do once in a while, but it soon becomes an addiction. You’re eventually discharged and have no idea what to do. Your parents send you to a therapy group program where once again you feel alone and judged. You thought that this would finally be a place where people could relate to you and your struggles, but no. They think you’re weird. They think you’re different. Everyone told you that “you weren’t alone,” but it truly feels like no one knows how you feel or what you’re going through. Your future is a blur, and you have no plans for what to do.

The following school year, however, changes everything. You switch schools. You have no hobbies, but you need to sign up for an elective. There’s a Creative Writing course. You think about it, then decide you want to try writing again. You sign up for the elective with no thoughts of commitment, thinking to yourself that you can always switch out. However, after attending, you remember why you had such a big place in your heart for reading and writing. Your class isn’t judgmental or rude. They welcome you with open arms and encourage you. They remind you of your love, your appreciation for writing. Slowly, you start to enjoy it again.

As you continue the class, your love for writing grows and grows. You find a big box of books in the garage. They were your favorite as a kid. So, you try to take up reading again. You then start to remember why you loved it so much. You remember the addiction, the captivity. The way you won’t want to pause your book to use the bathroom or to eat. You remember how it makes you feel. It helps you understand and appreciate how much reading and writing mean to you. Eventually, you grow your book collection and writing portfolio. You think about pursuing writing as a career, but turn the idea down. You remind yourself of how school destroyed your love and creativity. You know that if you decide to pursue writing career-wise, it’ll destroy your love for it just like school did. You decide to continue with your original career plan to be a therapist. To be the someone that you needed that summer.

Even though finding free time is difficult, you do it anyway. Reading and writing once again become your escape. A coping mechanism. Your relationship with your dad becomes worse but you push through. You’re used to it at this point.

Although your schoolwork is pretty light, mental health issues don’t just disappear. You continue struggling. You try your hardest, but for some reason, mental health issues always get in the way of your happiness. While being back at the psych ward, you bring a couple of books with you. It’s the only thing that will keep you company. You again remember your love. You notice that you’re in an on/off relationship with reading and writing. You try to read as much as you can before being discharged.

You get discharged and immediately know it was wrong. You weren’t ready to go back home. You knew that you were the one begging to go home, but you didn’t expect them to listen. They listened. You know that you’re not ready, but they believed your lies. You don’t feel safe at home or the hospital. You just want to be alone.

Your life becomes much messier after that. You go through a friendship breakup that takes a huge toll on you. You just can’t get back to where you were. The battle of just trying to stay out of the hospital continues. The school year ends, and the summer comes and goes. It’s already September again.

After months and months of working on your mental health, coming back to school doesn’t seem so hard anymore. You sign up for Advanced Creative Writing and it once again reminds you of your love. It becomes the thing you look forward to in school; so much so that you choose to stay in that creative writing class throughout the remainder of high school.

Your future will most likely be difficult, but hopefully worth it. Maybe you’ll become so busy with college and work that you forget to think about yourself. Maybe you’ll become a workaholic and yet again forget your love for reading and writing. However, after finishing school, you might get a chance to breathe. Maybe one day as you’re moving out, you’ll find yourself looking through your old writing and finding your old books again. You’ll remember writing these stories and taking these notes. You’ll remember the thrill of escaping into other realities. And the relaxing and soothing feeling of just sitting in bed and reading or writing to your heart’s content for however long you please.

Maybe as your life goes on, you’ll find yourself working the job of your dreams while on the side, you’re publishing your first book. Something you know is that life won’t move on as a “happy ever after.” Life is complicated and things get hard; the difference is that now, you know how to cope with those situations. You can use reading and writing as a way to cope. It helps you get through the hard stuff. And you use that to your advantage.

The post How to Learn to Love to Write: A Mental Health Journey appeared first on Mad In America.