Why is writing cathartic?

I have to embrace the fact that I may not be able to achieve success like any other teenager does. I have to accept the reality of my incompetence and failure, and how much bless in disguise it might be, considering all the internships, interviews, and relationships that left me dejected.

It’s not like I’ve lost hope or belief in myself, but it’s more like I am done with trying. Exhaustion recently became a habit that I can’t seem to beat, masking my own emotions, withering my soul and left me to no more caffeine to use.

Life has used up my energy, but the only thing I still see as a catharsis to redeem my powers is writing. I still write, doubting my talent and myself, but that’s the only thing I bite the dust to keep up to; I look at myself in the mirror and wonder how writing was the hand I used to get through different traumas, how it helped me survive the worst of memories.

Yes, I admit I am not anywhere near close to professionalism, but it’s the only thing that never failed me, instead it nourishes my soul. It proved to me that I am not just a breathing corpse, but a person expressing their true self through figurative language and indirect forms of cursing.

Some of you may relate to how exasperating it feels handling an indescribable feeling and having it weighing down your mind. Believe me when I say that writing is the way out of hell.