Has your own writing ever made you cry

Has your own writing ever made you cry?


I used to be very suicidal.

When nothing helped, I poured my heart out in my writings.

I remember typing while crying my eyes out, screaming, yelling in between.

I remember feeling like I wouldn’t be able to write more because of how much pain my own feelings brought me.

I have writings that date back to 2016.

Everything before that was removed by me back then because I felt like I could only start a ‘new’ life that way.

Every now and then, I read them.
And cry sometimes.

I’ve come a long way.
And I never believed I’d come this far.

Reading my own writings keep me positive during my tough times because if I got through that, I can get through this too.


Absolutely!
I’ve been thinking about my mother quite often since her passing in 2012.
The things she said and did, and the things she associated with.
One of those “things” was a black stray cat she welcomed into our house.

Recently, I would think about Black Kitty every time I thought about my late mother.
I dreamed about the cat a few times and one early morning the thought of Black Kitty woke me up and “made” me write a short story about her.
During the writing of this autobiographic short story, tears would run down my cheeks every time a specific memory or analysis of our cat hit me.
I enjoyed writing Black Kitty of Kabul in a way I rarely enjoy writing.


Yes.
I must have dug extra deep into my feelings that day.
I was writing for effect, of course, but I never expected it to rebound on me like that as I was editing.


Yes.
I’m as bad as “Joan Wilder” in Romancing the Stone.


Has your own writing ever made you cry?


I used to be very suicidal.

When nothing helped, I poured my heart out in my writings.

I remember typing while crying my eyes out, screaming, yelling in between.

I remember feeling like I wouldn’t be able to write more because of how much pain my own feelings brought me.

I have writings that date back to 2016.

Everything before that was removed by me back then because I felt like I could only start a ‘new’ life that way.

Every now and then, I read them.
And cry sometimes.

I’ve come a long way.
And I never believed I’d come this far.

Reading my own writings keep me positive during my tough times because if I got through that, I can get through this too.


Absolutely!
I’ve been thinking about my mother quite often since her passing in 2012.
The things she said and did, and the things she associated with.
One of those “things” was a black stray cat she welcomed into our house.

Recently, I would think about Black Kitty every time I thought about my late mother.
I dreamed about the cat a few times and one early morning the thought of Black Kitty woke me up and “made” me write a short story about her.
During the writing of this autobiographic short story, tears would run down my cheeks every time a specific memory or analysis of our cat hit me.
I enjoyed writing Black Kitty of Kabul in a way I rarely enjoy writing.


Yes.
I must have dug extra deep into my feelings that day.
I was writing for effect, of course, but I never expected it to rebound on me like that as I was editing.


Yes.
I’m as bad as “Joan Wilder” in Romancing the Stone.

Updated: 19.06.2019 — 3:22 pm

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