I find writing a wonderful coping mechanism. If in doubt, write it out! Poems, songs, even random ramblings all help me put my thoughts into some kind of order; left to their own devices, they squabble and have no pecking order, but on the page, they are orderly and meek, though no less filled with the zing of inspiration.

When feeling low, when depression threatens like a blackness in the peripheral vision, the simple joy of sharing a poem can put a candle to that black. The sense of achievement from a deadline hit, or an essay that hits home; these little victories straighten my spine inch by inch, allowing the shoulders to bear a bit more without sagging.

Sometimes when anxiety is a raging tornado of bile and burns me from the inside out, I cannot write. This is my weather check; if I can’t write, things are bad. And sometimes I will try and force myself to, but will be so horrified at the muddled mess on the paper that I curl in on myself, hiding from my failure, and the world. At times like these music becomes my companion, coaxing me gently away from my fears until my hand is steady enough to hold the own once more

In magic, we sometimes write out things we want to be rid of- negativity, regret, bad habits and so forth- and we burn the paper, imagining our unwanted aspects drifting away with the smoke. Writing is a powerful tool, and I am grateful for it, especially at times of stress, when spoken words simply stutter and the mind will not be calm.

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