Writing as a healer

Writing is healing for me. It is therapeutic. I think with my fingers. I listen to my authentic self that is made of strength and struggle. It helps me embrace my imperfections, my vulnerabilities, my broken-heartedness, my fears. I wish I had known this much sooner.

I grew up in unsafe spaces where you are constantly labeled, dismissed, misjudged and judged. I didn’t have the privilege to talk it out. When I finally had the opportunity to talk it out, I realized how many tons came out of me and what a burden it placed on the other person. I am eternally grateful to those who bore the brunt of my traumas, imperfections and neglect. The empathetic part of me saw what a heavy weight I was on people who were close to me. Out of good intention, I stopped pushing that weight onto people who would come to my funeral. But the weight inside me kept rising. It became unbearable and uncomfortable to breathe. It chokes you and you need an outlet.

I didn’t trust the process of therapy much, as I didn’t feel safe with therapists either. That’s when I discovered morning pages seven years ago, and it just unleashed me. Some days I write twenty pages and some days just one page. Some days I am extremely grateful for everything I have in life. Some days I feel it is unfair. The words on paper unfolded me. Julia Cameron says don’t read your morning pages, but I didn’t listen to her. I read what Karthi went through that day, maybe after a week. This helped me listen to my inner self. I read my morning pages objectively. I had no agenda. No biases. No pity. No victimhood. Just being there to listen to me.

I connected dots from my reflections and learning, and that became my foundation for sharing some insights on social media. I started writing things that young Karthi would have appreciated. It is a tribute to my younger self for going through all that alone without courage, authenticity, and with so much fear. I don’t know how many Karthis out there feel the same way. I told myself, share these insights with the wide world authentically and vulnerably. Being yourself requires a lot of courage as well. The steel heart in me says keep going.

What I’ve shared with all of you is 646,780 words so far. What remains unshared I haven’t counted because most of it is pen and paper. Writing is my healer. When I am down, I write a lot more. Pain makes the writing beautiful. When I complain a lot, I write. When I am joyful, I write a few words. I write regardless. I feel lighter after every writing session. These days I don’t burden my fellow imperfect beings with my problems. At best, I listen to their problems and am there for them the way I would have loved someone to be there for me.

Being human is hard. Hang in there. Find a healer. It could be anything for you. It could be your purpose or your art, your work, your responsibility, or whatever else. Heal. That is the bottom line. Heal every day.