When I grow up I wanna be…

In my last year of high school I took a writing course. DANG I was good hahaha!

My mom kept all my writing that year, and put it in a beautiful leather binder. And at the end of the class my big project was a book compiling a variety of poems, short stories, essays, and whatever else I felt like – it was eons ago but I remember the fun of putting that book together, of BLEEDING words on the page and binding it together with representations of my soul.

I love those books 🙂 I’m still the same person I was at 18, apparently.

Of course, at the time, we had no idea that I was suffering from my first extended visit into The Pit – it’s funny how so many creative persons’ art FLOURISHES when in depressive spells, isn’t it? Almost like the more depressed I become the more in tune with my feelings? Which doesn’t make sense, because MY depression deadens my feelings until I trudge around on autopilot… I don’t know what it is, but I write well when I my head sucks. Shrug. It’s a thing.

I remember, though… I can’t remember if it was upon graduating the class or after getting an assignment back – I THINK it was the latter, and I got like, 99% only because she HAD to mark SOMETHING she said , though she had wanted to give me full marks hahaha – but I remember my teacher looking me in the eye, seeming, I dunno, touched maybe? Some emotional experience. And she made me promise that I would write. Be a columnist, I think was her suggestion. But WRITE THINGS.

Weird woman, why are you talking to me?

So, obviously, I went off to school, and over a series of tumultuous years shaped largely by my mental illness, I finally graduated university with a Bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology.

Face. Palm.

Do NOT get me wrong – I LOVED getting my kin degree! I use it REGULARLY. After university I went to college and became a massage therapist, and I’m a freaking AWESOME massage therapist!! I workout regularly, I use my kin background in my work, my workouts, my interaction with my friends and family, and let’s not forget the all importance of accomplishing hard things on this brain that likes to tell me I’m not able to do things; getting my degree was AMAZING.

But I’ve never laid awake at night dreaming of giving the world’s greatest massage.

I’ve been AFRAID to admit to myself, and especially to other people, that I WANT to write! Hahaha I’m so afraid of it that when I find out people are reading my writing I’m EMBARRASSED. You know when you compliment someone and they get all shifty? Yeah, it’s like that but about a hundred thousand times worse. STOP. READING. MY. MIND. hahaha
(Don’t really. Please keep reading. Tell your friends!!) O:-)

And I don’t know how many people I ever told, because it never felt real? But I USED to get paid to write! I did! I wrote social media posts and blog posts and got a paycheque and there were companies that actually LOVED me and would specifically ask for me to work on their stuff! AND I STOPPED TO BE A MASSAGE THERAPIST hahahaha

Oh, man. I’m a little bit bonkers sometimes.

I LOVE being a massage therapist, I really do. I’m excellent at my job. I love being able to take my kinesiology knowledge, literally put my hands on people, and FIX their aches and pains. I. Love. Helping. People. I don’t see myself stopping any time soon. (all my patients just let out a huuuuge sigh of relief hahaha!)

But I dreeeeaaaammmm of writing.

Funny how last year when I was so entrenched in the pit that I didn’t write. I think because I was finally admitting to myself what I wanted to do the fear reared its head? There was a lot of guilt for every time I had an idea of a topic and I didn’t write it down. Which suuuucked.

I sure watched a lot of Netflix, though!

Now? Now I’m saying it out loud. To me. To the entire freaking internet hahaha! And to the five or six people who will read this inane rambling (hi, mom!).

I want to write. I want to write a book. I want to be on the bestseller list. I want to do all the hard things.

And you know what? I think I can do it.

I’ve been back to my real self lately, and it feels almost immediate and DEFINITELY surreal, but I’ve already been approached to collaborate on a writing project that I am just SO. FREAKING. EXCTIED about. HELPING PEOPLE, people! It’s going to be amazing, and it has nothing to do with my writing abilities. Someone with brilliance has stumbled upon my corner of the internet and is certain in my potential.

It’s bloody amazing.

And I’ve only been pushing it for a couple of weeks… IMAGINE what I can do if I see this through?

Goals, folks. I’m all about crushing goals. And this one’s going to take me places.