Writing for me.

When I used to have all the time in the world, I wrote.  I would write letters, emails, stories, I had a poem published when I was much younger and I even tried my hand at song writing.  Writing has always been a form of release for me.  Nowadays, when I write, it’s usually an angry email being sent to my husband who is overseas because Skype isn’t working well enough for me to effectively express my anguish for this God-forsaken military lifestyle.  Obviously, I need more of an outlet.  Thus, I’m starting to write for leisure again.  With two small children now in the house, I haven’t had time or energy to write for myself in over a year but the time has come for me to take on the challenge again.  I love to write and I miss it.  I miss that my mind gets taken on a little vacation when I’m writing.  

My husband returned a couple weeks ago from about two months overseas and sent me out for a massage and facial at a fabulous spa.  As I laid there on the massage table and then to get a facial, my mind WOULD NOT STOP and that pissed me off.  My mind needed a vacation.  I was the sole provider of my children's well being for those last two months and I was mentally and physically exhausted.  I made it through it but I was scarred and I let myself get that way.  I knew I had to do something to bring myself back to me.  Writing is that something.  Now, would I love for my writing to take me far beyond this little desk I sit at right now?  Absolutely.  If writing ever turned lucrative for me, that would be the sugar sweet icing on my chocolate cake!  But, for now, it’s my outlet, my exhale after too many deep breaths.  

So, if you’d like, enjoy my little musings.  They should be full of honesty, love, some bitching, maybe a few too many cuss words, and pure, unfiltered life.