The childhood coping tool I put down — and picked up again
Sometimes, writing is difficult. But sometimes it’s not the writing itself that is the issue for me. It is the distractions that surround me every day. Just now, while I paused to think about my next sentence. I thought about doing several different things, started to do them all, then reminded myself to focus.
Fill my vape, check Medium, check the status of a package I ordered, drink, did I eat today? Oh shoot, it’s 5 am… Just to name a few.
I forgot what I was doing; literally having the pen in my hand helped me remember I was writing. As long as the pen stays in my hand, I’ll eventually work my way back. If I put the pen down, or if I’m typing, touch the mouse… It’s over until the thought randomly flits across my mind to remind me I was writing. And by then, a lot of the time, the thought that sparked my creativity is gone. When I get those moments of clarity or when I get into a groove, that’s the moment I love. Those are the moments that heal.
I have a theory: when my pen leaves the paper, everything gets louder. Everything is saying, “Look at me! Get distracted by me! Look, wouldn’t it be fun if we did this instead?”
Thinking back to my time in school, I realized I had a coping strategy that I forgot. In school, it looked like endlessly taking notes of everything the teacher was saying, so I was always writing and staying “engaged”. Sometimes I absorbed some of the information… But most of the time I didn’t. Most of the time, I would remember exactly which page of my notes the information was on, but couldn’t recall it. Otherwise, my mind would wander and I’d lose focus.
I discovered that I really found comfort in my own handwriting, even from a young age. I’m not sure if it was perfectionism, or just the feel of writing, or being active in my mind without moving my body too much… On really bad days when I couldn’t even focus on the words the teachers were saying, I’d start writing the alphabet to do something. Sometimes my notes would just be letters of the alphabet, over and over again, for pages. No words, just the alphabet on repeat. As a result, I normally have decent handwriting. It has a few quirks, but I’ve grown to love it. It is my own.
I know a lot of people doodled, but I have never been able to draw, so this was my solution. Most of the time, I couldn’t think of anything to write. So I’d just write the alphabet. In particularly boring classes, if I was feeling inspired, I would sometimes write a letter to my cousin, or write one of my role-play posts, or write about one of the many characters I wrote. Anything to keep my mind quiet.
Sometimes that wasn’t enough, and I’d just get up and leave because I needed a break from the lights, the lecture, the fear of being called on. I didn’t start doing that until I was driving my own car to school. I would literally just get up, leave, and drive away. I’d sometimes come back for my next class, sometimes I wouldn’t. It became a bit of a problem, thinking back about it now. But it was my way to step back when the world got too loud.
I’ve never been one to write about my own struggles until now, so the concept of journaling was always something I scoffed at. I never thought I had anything special about me. But in my recovery journey this time, I thought I’d put pen to paper and give writing another go, and I’m so glad I did. It started as journaling, then I realized I had so much I could share. I didn’t have to create new ideas, I could share the ones I’ve lived. So here I am, sharing.
Remember you are not alone in your struggle, but sometimes you have to create your own ways to cope and come about them at your own time.
Publication note Originally on Medium ([October 2025]). This is the canonical version.