Stressed? Keep writing.
It might seem hard to write when you’re busy or anxious, but writing is usually one of the best and only ways to alleviate excessive stress, especially now. [Edited from the Archive.]
These past few months have been stressful for so many of us living inside the U.S. And it might get more stressful in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead. Which is why now is the best time to start and keep writing. Not tomorrow. Not when things ‘settle down.’ Not when you ‘find the time.’ Not when you feel more relaxed and less stressed. Now.
Now is the best time to sit down and write— to write about anything and everything you’re experiencing, witnessing, feeling, and thinking.
In fact, there is no better time to write. Writing right now can help you alleviate some, if not all, of the stress you’re feeling right now.
Like many other writers out there, this year has brought me too many unfocused mornings and days to count. The literal and figurative temperature of the entire world is coming closer and closer to a boiling point each and every day, and we can all feel it, especially the writers and readers among us.
Unfortunately, however, such intemperate conditions can make writing about the jumbled thoughts and feelings we’re experiencing seem impossible.
But we must write anyway.
Writing is the only way to achieve any real clarity or understanding about what we’re thinking and feeling right now, even though the opposite seems truer when we’re stressed out and unable to focus.
Periodically, I’ll stare at the blinking cursor on my screen wondering whether I’ll be able to fully capture the moment I’m experiencing, or whether whatever I write will even matter in the grand scheme of things.
Often, words alone don’t seem sufficient to make sense of everything going on, let alone everything I’m thinking and feeling. The words I want to write can seem inadequate in illustrating and understanding the real temperature of the real world I’m living in sometimes, leaving me paralyzed.
But after staring into the digital abyss for what seems like hours at a time, I’ll start typing something, anything, just to have something to do. Then eventually those words will start forming coherent sentences that do suffice. And then those sentences start coalescing into something more legible and honest and real.
Sure, what initially comes out isn’t always coherent or polished—in fact, it’s often nothing more than a jumbled vocabulary— but writing always, always helps things come into better focus for me in the long run. Writing also heals me in ways that aren’t necessarily easy to explain. And this helps me deal with any stress I’m feeling.
Once I start writing without a filter or inauthentic expectations, the words won’t stop coming, like they’re coming from a faucet that’s been turned on. And it’s only in these moments that I’m able to see a much bigger, clearer picture of the world surrounding me.
When I write regularly and unimpeded, bits and pieces of the world and everyone in it emerge and come into much better focus, even though I’m usually all alone in my home office when I’m clacking away on my keyboard.
Writing has the ability to do that— to offer focus and clarity and understanding where there once was none— as does reading. Language finds a way to connect us, even when we’re technically alone.
After a few minutes of continuous writing, my breathing becomes steadier, and my thoughts become clearer. The loud, anxious pulsing in my veins morphs into a steady hum that lingers in the background of my mind the longer I write, becoming a comforting thing that urges me on, instead of something that gets in my way and obstructs my ability to write. And more writing begets more writing.
Then, after nearly a half hour of writing, my thoughts become a lot more rational. I don’t feel so doom and gloom anymore, though I don’t feel like I’m wearing rose-colored glasses either.
When I write, I’m able to see things more objectively, with a sharper focus, which makes sorting through all my thoughts and feelings so much easier and more enjoyable. Writing allows me to be more mindful and calmer, which helps alleviate stress and anxiety.
Usually, after about an hour or so of writing, I genuinely feel a little better. I feel better for having accomplished something tangible, even if I need to polish what I wrote later. I also feel better because my breathing is more regulated, which helps quell the physical effects of my anxiety and stress, since writing is a form of exercise. And I feel better for having written something that connects me to others’ feelings and thoughts in some meaningful way.
Essentially, when I write without any imaginary preconceived barriers, my stress starts to dissipate, every single time. Each time I fully embrace the writing process, unconcerned with the end product of what I’m writing, writing becomes a sort of therapy for me, an anti-anxiety tool. Especially when I free write.
Trust me. If you’re stressed, start writing anyway, then keep writing, without striving for perfection, and your stress and anxiety will slowly but surely dissipate, every single time.
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