In early December, I had this strange obsession with the word escapism and it ultimately led me down a few dark Reddit rabbit holes.
For as long as I can remember, I've always been my best escape. In written form, that is. Anytime I've ever felt especially suffocated or disappointed, I automatically found a place I could be alone, pulled out my diary, my phone or computer and started manufacturing everything I felt into words. Like I was giving my clusterfuck of emotions some kind of meaning. By the time I'd finish, I'd feel this overwhelming sense of relief.
But for the past few years, I let that habit of mine go. I wrote it off (no pun intended) as time-wasting, draining work after a day of writing, writing and more writing. Instead, I turned to running, which many runners will tell you is the best (and often healthiest) escape. And don't get me wrong — I absolutely love running. I feel most alive when I start that first sprint on a cool morning. But for me, that high is always only temporary. I never feel complete relief.
It wasn't until the end of 2017 that I realized how badly I needed to write for myself again. That's actually when I decided to bring this blog back to life. And it's just been the sweetest escape.
The #100daychallenge writing series is my way of holding my right brain accountable for all the brain fog in hopes that I'll learn to creatively organize my thoughts and learn something(s) new about myself in the process. The challenge includes prompts from the San Francisco Writers' Grotto's 642 Things to Write About. You can also follow my #100daychallenge here.