Mackenzie Sheldon | Contributing Writer
Writing brings forth every feeling your brain had been protecting you from. It releases lost memories and unsolved emotions. It's an artificial closure when none is given. A second truly to ourselves is unfortunately rare, not to mention difficult to maintain. We are expected to embrace life with open arms without being taught how to. We are not taught how to manage negative emotions, so we simply don’t. All moments of distress that were moved to the back of your mind eventually uncover their hidden claws and slowly crawl toward the front. Bottling up these moments in glass is a way of life until it becomes an overwhelming release. The forgotten experience breaks the glass leaving painful shards all over your mind, digging its nails along all parts of your brain. This is an unhealthy coping mechanism that can be unlearned with time. Being able to feel, heal, and accept a traumatic event in that moment is extremely difficult, but can be done with support. Eventually, the trauma is healed and the shards become nothing but tiny pieces of glass. Those tiny pieces will stay, but the cutting impact they first had on you will slowly diminish. In the end, it is a story to share. Writing is a peace nothing else will give you. It is a promise to yourself that you will heal from what you’ve been through. It doesn’t feel like it now, but you will be okay.