What made me start Writing?

When you see a band or an author, one of the most asked questions is how they started writing and creating. What did they do to create something so beautiful? There are countless answers. For me, it was really rough at first.

I started writing songs when I was 10 years old. I was the bullied one. Everyone always made fun of me. I was the kid who did not fit in and did not care to fit in. I struggled a lot finding myself, and to this day, I am still discovering myself and what makes me truly happy. I had been depressed since I was little. I was very anti social, high anxiety. I really hated the concept of life. Why would we be put on this hell of an earth? I did not understand why everyone talked so positively about life when there were so many things wrong. I think a lot of my anxiety came from wanting something more meaningful in life. At the time, I just thought life was pointless..not in a suicidal way just yet. Why so much pain and suffering for something that would eventually end?

My uncle and I were close. I spoke to him sometimes about the cutting. He was an alcoholic though. I love him but he was always drinking, which caused issues for me sometimes. I wanted him to listen and not be drunk on alcohol. I needed someone to talk to before my head exploded like confetti being shot out of a gun. I called him the next day, thankfully he was not drunk. I remember it was after I had been molested that I really hit rock bottom. I told him I did not want to live anymore. I was done. I was done with life. I was done hurting. There was no escape. Death was my only way out. No one could hurt me if I was dead. I would not be able to feel anything if I was dead. There was just tunnels and tunnels of darkness and mountains of issues contributing to this. I screamed and cried. I had a pity party for myself. I lost control. I made up my mind. This life was not meant for me to live. He told me to write it down. Write every single emotion down that I had and turn it into something beautiful. Make something of my pain. Do not let it eat me alive before I even had the chance to live.

I wish I could tell you it was easy sailing from that day on, but unfortunately that was not the truth. A lot of pain and suffering happened. I could not figure out how to heal. I was stuck in the mud. My head was in the ground like roots on a tree. I was cutting daily at this point. Many of those scars I still have today. I lost the battle but I could still win this war. I started to write poems. Anything that came to my mind I would write. I found my happy place. My escape from this brutal reality. This was my safe place. I could write any of my darkest secrets locked inside myself. I stopped asking myself, “why,” so much and started asking, “how.” How can I turn this horrible experience into something positive? How can I change my brains chemistry from looking at what happened and being destroyed by it, to, “how can I make this help other people?” How can I make my time on earth be something amazing? How can I turn my pain into inspiration? That is exactly what I did. I feel my life purpose is to bring awareness to these issues. This was not the last time I would be six feet underground. Writing was a start to my life’s purpose. Music became my best friend. Words became my home.

Right now, in the present day, I feel that my life’s purpose is to write a story. Wether its through songs or novels or blogs, I know my words are going to be heard. All of my hard work and healing is paying off. Whatever this is the beginning of will flourish into a beautiful garden. This is where my life starts.

This was one of my very first songs. The lyrics have been revised as I wrote this almost ten years ago. My wording has changed and gotten better, so my older songs have also been revised. This one is called Scars. I wrote it when I was cutting and I was unable to see the light of day. I felt like no one could see my pain or even understand my pain. My body told me not to cut, but my mind craved it. My body won. Anything that happened that was negative, there was a new scar. Some more insight on this song, I wrote it after I had an almost incident. I took a razor to my leg and sliced it deep enough to see the fat and muscle. I should have gotten stitches, as it kept opening back up for a couple of weeks every time I would walk. I did not mean to cut that deep, but I was so angry and upset. I put all of that angry energy into my body. I told myself I was not worth enough, I was not pretty or thin enough. I would never make anything of myself. I put myself down to nothing. I was a seed, but I felt like dirt. There was no real purpose for me. I was just here. I was mad at myself that I was not perfect like I wanted to be. I punished myself for never being perfect.

Scars

(Talking) I’m going to draw a picture. A picture with a twist. I’m going to draw it on my wrist. The paint is my blood. (Scream)

Please, please put the razor down

Is it really worth it?

scars sky high on your wrists

shines like blood in the sun

Tells stories of battles

You lost within yourself

How will you know I am hurting if you cannot see my pain?

(Talk) To see it on my skin

(Scream) Tells what words cannot explain

(Sing) Bleed, bleed, bleed out all my pain

All alone, no one understands

All that I have left are these scars

Guitar Solo

(Scream) Can’t you see I’m desperate for help!

To bleed is to breathe!

I need to bleed as much as I need to breathe

Nothing matters now

I need to feel the pain (Scream and hold 4 counts)

Someone save me

From this pain!

Suffered for so long

I don’t want to die tonight

Just want to cry

Make me feel alive for once

Dying on the inside

(Scream) Don’t leave me to DIE!

Seeing these lyrics now, it makes me cringe. But I have to give myself credit, because this was one of the first songs I wrote. I am proud of it, but as I got older I started learning how to write better. This was only my beginning.