Therapeutic Writing

Writing has always been my therapy. About a year or so ago (maybe not that long ago), I was reading an article about Mark Twain and how he carried a journal with him everywhere he went and was constantly writing in it. When his daughter died, that was the only way he knew how to deal with his grief was by writing about it. I was so fascinated by this story I felt compelled to call my oldest sister to tell her that Mark Twain and I shared the same compulsion. She wasn't as thrilled about it as I was. I originally had to start carrying my journal with me everywhere I went to keep my ex-wife from reading it. My desire was to keep my Journal as private as possible. It is never going to make me any money, I am never going to be famous, and I really do not know why anyone would ever want to read it. My Journal contains no revelations about the universe, no deep philosophies that are going to change people's lives, and I am probably not going to reveal the meaning of life. Until I starting blogging about four years ago, my writing was never for public consumption (and evidently it is still not), but when i started blogging, I changed the way I wrote for fear of revealing to much about myself. That is why my Journal has always been so important to me is because I could reveal myself within its pages and no one would be there to read it. This blog has been about the most revealing thing I have ever written. I don't have to worry about anyone reading it, either.