Cathartic Coercion

It's been months, more like years, since I've sat in bed, my laptop resting atop down comforters and blankets, with the intention of writing anything of substance.

The English language has always been something I've enjoyed. Assembling syllables, words, sentences, and paragraphs, into something more than just letters appearing on a screen has always been a passion of mine.

To me it's a cathartic coercion when I'm able to achieve a melodic passage by giving my thoughts a life of their own in which the reader can engage with all of their senses.

For lack of a better term, I've been on hiatus. I feel my writing is rusty at best.

However, with encouragement from a friend, and the passage of time sufficient to quell the chaotic confusion I had been thrown into, some of my own doing and some dealt by the hands of cavalier diagnosticians, I now feel the freedom to allow my thoughts to emerge once more.

My mind is at ease and I feel no need to censor my ideas, my reasoning, or my perceptions. I have allowed myself to be freed from the confinement I once endured.

I have tamed the inner demons that once haunted me. I can now the celebrate multifaceted creation I am. I no longer feel the need to flee. I have been liberated and polished by the pressure that once surrounded me. I can now go forth smiling with the knowledge I was never destroyed.

My Creator kept me shielded from the one that was intent on incinerating my inner most being. I had to be broken, broken enough to allow my Maker to rebuild me into the woman He had intended for me to be from the beginning of time.

xo,