How Writing Helped Me Cope With Stress and Loneliness

At some point in life, we’ve all been there. When everything felt too much to deal with, you stress over certain events and the consequences that came along. And you don’t really have much choice except to bear with it. Well, I’ve been there too. Not once, but on several occasions of my life. Losing my dad was one of the very reasons which made me feel that waySo this is how it began. I was a teenager, living my life unapologetically. Then one day, I lost my dad to death. It was hard to believe that he won’t be around ever. That I would never get to see his face or hear his voice. The year following his death was hard. I felt alone. And kind of miserable. And also, a lot emotional too. I would stress over every situation I’ve been in and every conversation I ever had. My overthinking made me lose friendships and relationships.

So, I tried talking to a few close friends about it. That this feeling of stress doesn’t let me sleep. That I stay up late most nights staring at the ceiling. But talking didn’t help. Then I realized, there must be some way to deal with it. And there was. One gloomy Tuesday night, I found myself pouring my heart out on a sheet of paper. Suddenly, everything in the world felt better. I felt better. And that’s when I discovered my lost love for writing.

When I was at my worst, I confided in writing and became best friends with it. Putting my thoughts on paper helped me cope with all the feelings of loneliness. It’s like a friend, a partner who listens.

Since then, whenever I felt anxiety acting up, the empty sheets motivated me to keep going. The blank lines soaked my tears in themselves but never complained. They always gave me space to express myself. It is like safe heaven, where you are you. Where you don’t face any judgments. And where you don’t look for validations.

And when you don’t know where to go or what to do, that is when writing saves you. It’s like that bruise on your knee you got when you were seven, the pain’s gone but the scars are always there. This is what happens to me too. I always do the same mistakes, and then stress over the outcome. It hurts for weeks or sometimes years. Time goes by, and it hurts less. But the scars get darker and deeper. So now all I do, and all I know there’s to do is write. Write until my tears dry. Write until the pen runs out of ink. Write until I see empty lines. Write until my chest doesn’t feel so heavy and my heart doesn’t feel so empty. Write until I’ve poured every thought on a piece of paper. And when you are done telling empty pages your story, you feel better. You suddenly feel things are going back to place. Because sooner or later, everything will be fine. And that is the motivation writing gives me to never give up.

Writing became a coping mechanism for my loneliness. It helped me in my healing process. There are still some days when I don’t feel like my best self. Where I just want to cry and cry for hours. But, in the end, I always look for my diary to journal my thoughts. And it always works.

When I had no one, I had writing. When friends, and crushes, and people left, writing stayed. I turn to pen and paper, and not people. Because writing never betrayed me. Writing is a lover, who never leaves.