Writing Gives Me Clarity

I get clarity when I write. It’s actually quite amazing. All my thoughts will be muddled and jumbled about in my head until I actually start to write out my feelings and my thoughts. I have kept many diaries and journals. They always help me to analyze my own feelings because sometimes I have trouble figuring out my own feelings. I think it’s because I want the only feeling I show to be happiness so anything else tends to feel foreign.

I was often called a crybaby when I was younger so, at a young age, I decided not to show and negative emotions publicly and it just stuck. In fact, I might be a little indifferent at times because of that. It either a light happiness or indifference.

It’s not that I don’t feel emotion. No, I feel every emotion and feel it intensely but, it is just hard for me to express outwardly. I don’t know how to react. That can come and bite me in the behind and I end up overwhelmed with sadness randomly in public on the verge of tears triggered by the smallest of nuances. I, then, go home to cry privately and passionately write out my feelings. I have the most problems identifying with anger because its such an ugly feeling to me.

Is it that I feel that I have no right to anger or that I do not want to offend anyone with my anger? I have trouble being angry because I don’t want to be and yet I want to stay and be angry in that moment.

I tell people I am upset because it sounds lighter. Maybe I feel betrayed and I say I am disappointed. Don’t ask me about how I feel until I have figured it out myself. I cannot tell you at the moment because I am feeling so many things at once. How can I just label it as one emotion when I feel many?

I am disappointed, betrayed, angry, confused, and thoughtful. Am I angry at you or myself? I cannot tell. Let me write it out. I’m afraid I will say something hurtful if I do not filter it out first. Let me organize my thoughts. They’re still jumbled in my mind. You see, I was never a talker.

Talking it out does not give me comfort. It makes me anxious. What should I say next? I paused too much. Is it still too late to say this? How should I say this? With writing, what I say next is automatic, and if I pause too much, it’s never too late. I can say what I have to say anyway I want. After all, I’m writing to myself. I much rather write than talk. I feel freer that way, lighter that way. Listening was my first language. I love to listen. Speaking was my second. Writing was my third language and it stole my heart.

Writing gives me clarity. Not in the sense that I can label all my emotions but, in the fact that I allow myself to feel the emotions and go through them rather then skimming over them as I usually do. Maybe, it’s also because of the fact that you can erase writing and no one will ever know or maybe its because even pain can sound beautiful in writing when you can’t quite bring yourself to terms with the feeling.

Thank you for reading my emotions,

Shika

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Shika Tamaklo is a pharmacy student attending Mercer University. She is a college lifestyle blogger who writes on fitness, health, student life struggles and, occasionally dabbles in creative writing.

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