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I’m Just Doing This For Me

(And I Think That’s Okay)

Green Chameleon on Unsplash

Writing has been a coping mechanism for me over the last 6 years.

I started blogging because I thought I was a decent writer, and wanted to get better at it. But once a traumatic event occurred, and my depression grew bigger than I could have ever imagined, writing helped me cope.

I began to describe how I was feeling, even the really, really shitty moments, and by putting my emotions out there onto paper (or screen), I would feel a little bit better.

When these kinds of posts started to get noticed, readers would comment and say that they too have felt that shitty, that they are thankful to me(!) for writing it and making them feel less alone. By leaving these kinds of comments, the readers helped me feel less alone too.


Nowadays, I have a 4 month old baby who is driving both myself and my partner insane. We haven’t slept properly since she was born (obviously) but the last 8 nights have been particularly shit (some sort of 4 month regression).

We’ve been trying our very best to not let these terrible, stress-filled nights ruin our days too (even though we are so tired that we forget words a lot of the time). We’ve also been trying to get shit done that we need/want to do, which is fucking hard.

So here I am, sitting on a cold floor whilst my 4 month old has the time of her life in a swinging chair that plays nursery rhymes way too loudly. I’m writing whatever comes to mind because I need to.

I need to write because it’s part of who I am.

Even if this is utter crap, even if nobody reads it, I don’t care. I’m doing it for myself, for my sanity.

So fasten your seat belts for some nonsense, some diary-like entries, some opinions and whatever comes out of this tired brain.

Or not, up to you really!


Come find me on thisstuffisgolden.com because you know you want to.

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