Why indeed. What is the point of it? I often ask myself this. I am, amongst other things, depressed – and so I question the meaning of things.
To answer this specific question I would maybe say that I find writing to be therapeutic, a way of channeling that which in my mind is just a muddle of thoughts.
But why not just write in a diary, something just for me?
Well. I do that too. During my stay at the madhouse, for example, I wrote a full length book, which I may or may not share in the future. The reason I am sharing this is simply that the need, or wish, to share suddenly came over me, and so I created a blog.
I find myself increasingly aware of how mental health is such a taboo subject, and I really wish it wasn’t.
And so I want to write about it, to tell people that you can get ill in your head in the same way as you can get ill in your body, and it should be okay to talk about it in the same way too.
So there. That’s why.