Writing Is My Drug of Choice
When I was in high school, or a little bit younger than that, I used to write stories. I used to dream of being a TV reporter, reporting news or writing some famous novel. I never took it seriously, but I knew that I was good in English, the same way other people were good in Math.
I loved to read. I would enter reading contests; who could read the most books over the summer. I entered spelling bees. I was good with words. The other thing I could do was sing and dance.
I had an eye for music. I was in choir, I played the clarinet for six years, I was in marching band, cheerleading captain, school musicals. You name it. I did it. I had promise.
What happened? I’ll tell you what, life happened. Gone were my dreams of becoming a doctor. Enter motherhood, heartache, job searching, soul searching, more motherhood…….wasting away……more motherhood and now here I am. Thirty-nine years old, sick, tired and struggling.
Writing is slowly becoming my open window. My chance to escape from reality, from financial problems, health problems, family problems. It is my new drug. I’m addicted to it already. No hangovers, no throwing up the next day. No headache, no side effects.
I like this drug. I don’t have to discuss it with a doctor. There is no contra-indications with my other medications. I think I’ll stick with it. Today I entered a writing contest on Hubpages.com. I figured why not? I’ve been at this a couple of months now. I have almost 200 followers on there. If I lose so what?
Let me tell you that I had the most exquisite time writing that story. If you get a chance check it out. It is my first-ever published short story. I left it with a cliffhanger at the end. Not sure if I will write sequels to it or not. I’ll see how people like it. Let me know what you think: