In recent months I have taken to writing to release the pressure in my mind. All of the thoughts and emotions tends to build up in me over time and I have been searching for an outlet for a long time. Maybe writing is my answer. Stress is bizarre when you think about it. How do you even describe stress? It affects everyone differently.
We all have our vices to deal with it. Food, medication, alcohol, drugs, video games, exercise, and the list goes on. Some of them are healthier than others. Some of them generate more stress. I don’t agree with many decisions people make, but that doesn’t give me the right to tell them they are wrong. That can be a hard concept to grasp, especially when I see someone struggling and want to help.
Maybe that’s why I seek out help from other people. I don’t want to be one of those people who struggle with their problems, never breaking the cycle of poverty, never seeking out the truth because they don’t want to hear it, they don’t want to find the answer because their problems have become a part of their identity. I’ve seen it happen first-hand and I don’t like it.
It’s funny how we don’t realize we have cycles, routines, and habits until we are forced outside of them. Coming out here and living with other people, I’ve had to adjust some of those daily routines that I had gotten into. Everyone does it. We all settle. It’s not a bad thing, but it is healthy to uproot and start over every once and a while.