When Did I become a Writer?

Not all that long ago when I was depressed I wrote my shrink an email. I was trying to accurately describe the state of mind I was in and nothing was coming forth. So I sent her something that wasn't quite right, but close enough. Later that day it came to me. I sent her another email that simply said in large bold type

I've lost my essence.

I couldn't write. I couldn't write anything but depressing posts, and all I wanted to write was this. On the way home from OOO I'd written the entire thing in my head, but when I got home that night I sat with my laptop in my lap to a brain with intense fog. And there was nothing. Who am I without my ability to write? That is my essence.

That was it! If I could come up with something that precise, concise, profound, to describe my feelings then clearly my essence, my ability to think was still in tact in there somewhere. My essence was not gone, just buried under a pile of crap.

Within 3 or 4 days I was completely not depressed. I could write again and all was right with the world. "I've lost my essence" was my springboard.

The question though is when writing became such an integral part of who I am. When I was in 2nd grade we had to research a "community worker." Someone we wanted to be when we grew up. Talk about what a firefighter or a chef did. I chose children's book author.

In 6th grade I decided I'd rather be a journalist. In 8th grade I decided writing was just too hard. I'd sit at a computer and stare. I couldn't focus to write. I don't remember what I decided I wanted to be then.

I started blogging right at the time I was diagnosed. When I'm depressed, obviously, I cannot write. When I am stable, obviously, I can. When I am manic or anxious, of course, I write a bit too much.

So I wonder if/how my enthusiasm or disinclination towards writing mirrors the progression of my mood disorder and if it could have been a great diagnostic and/or tracking tool for me back in the day? Not that it matters. It's a great tracking tool now. One of the reasons I've kept at it.

Writing is so much a part of my essence that when I told my shrink I couldn't blog anymore she asked me if I thought I needed to go to the ER. I laughed because if I were her I would have replied the same way. My not eating, my sleeping 12+ hrs/day was not as much a concern as my not writing. Glad we're on the same page (pun not intended).

It's interesting, isn't it? 2 years ago I wouldn't have considered myself a writer, and now that's most of who I am.