Writing - is it meant for me?

Questions Abound

I can't help asking myself WHY I write?

So I've been writing for years. After my TBI, however, that diminished drastically. But then... I still try doing it, but I have much more difficulty doing what I claim to love. And yet I keep trying. It's not like I could be doing dozens of other things with my life, but I don't appear to be making that much progress in this area.

I started my writing obsession pretty young. I was still in grade school the first time I wrote a story. It was, of course, a school assignment, but I invested myself in doing it.

For several years after that, I did my best to succeed in school, it being a French environment since we moved to Quebec, Canada when I was heading into third grade. I'm honestly a bit surprised that I was able to get as far into my schooling without having to attend Summer school. The one year that I did, Math was the reason. Not surprising, really, since I've never been too good with numbers.

Anyway ... I started writing more as a pastime during the Summer months - when I'd be bored out of my mind. It then extended to when I'd be riding in the car on "vacation", but that was less often because I used to get car sick.

I got in trouble in school for writing during class, but that was less often - as well as being less dramatic than when I'd get in trouble for fighting. That started out happening fairly often when I was in third and fourth grade.

Over the years, I've written quite a bit, thinking it would be something I'd succeed at doing. After my TBI, though... I'm not so sure.

I can't help asking myself WHAT to write?

I'm not sure of that anymore.

For so long, I've wanted to write biblical stories that will have an impact on others. That hope hasn't died completely, but I've thought for so long that I'm not good enough to write stories like that. I keep believing something has changed, but I'm just not certain how to make it right.

Add to that, my brain doesn't work nearly as well as it used to. Well, in a lot of ways. Occasionally, I'll use its deficiencies to my advantage. More often than not, however, it's more problematic than not.

If this blog wasn't online, I might use it to do some writing. I actually might, anyway, but I'm not sure I'd want to do that because of stories possibly being stolen from me. I'm not fearful to the point of never trying anything like that, but I sometimes wonder if writing is worth it....