So here I am once again. As I sit here on my bed, drinking my milky coffee from my K cup and listening to Frank Ocean and reading ‘The Fellowship of the Ring’ on this rainy day, I’m pushed by this motivation to do something, to write something.
When I was younger I adored writing. Whether it was a diary in which I’d extremely over exaggerated my day to make it filled with kick ass adventures, spending hours in my nana’s company writing full length books to show off to her or pretending that I was a journalist writing for the local paper it was something that I adored to do. By the time I got to high school and my life changed probably for the worst, I lost my creative love. Although I tried and tried to get back into it, I never stuck to it.
Suffering from anxiety and depression over the years is something I’ve always struggled to handle on my own. I find it hard to deal with it on my own, I lash out the ones that I love and I blame them for my brain. I blame everyone but me for not being able to handle it, and I feel like I need someplace where I can let it all out and where I can push myself to be who I want to be. I find myself frequently sitting and thinking that I have ruined my life. That I am now here, 24 years old with nothing to show for myself or my life. I need to get myself out of this mindset. I need something to focus on.
And here we are. Sanctuary. The dictionary defines sanctuary as “refuge or safety from pursuit, persecution, or other danger.”, and that’s where this place will be from me. A refuge from my own mind. Whether it just be writing about my day, writing about my thoughts on certain things happening in the world or any short stories that may pop into my head, it’s my place.
Hopefully this helps me come to terms with who I am.