I’ve had a rubbish year. I lost my business last year. I owned a theatre, put my heart, soul and a lot of money in to it. My theatre had a flood and I had to close it, I lost everything. I had to let people down. I was angry at myself and the situation for ages.
If I hadn’t lost all of my money, it would have been the perfect time to go on a soul-searching holiday.
I lost my confidence. I tried to be positive whilst I figured out what I was supposed to do with my life.
I launched other business’ and then stopped them, my heart wasn’t in them.
I soul-searched. I watched a lot of Oprah. I talked to friends and family. My confidence started to come back. I started to feel less angry about everything. I started to listen to my heart properly.
I started writing again.
I have always written. For me, it’s the one thing that makes sense. Writing is like medicine, feeding my soul. But, over the last few months, I couldn’t bring myself to write anything. Other than some diary entries to help me get my feelings out, I just couldn’t write.
I was scared it had gone forever.
It came back.
I started to write again and everything seemed to connect in my life once more. Like a missing jigsaw piece.
Stories and ideas are tumbling out of my mind, so much so that I’m struggling to catch them and make sense of them all.
But I don’t care. I’m writing and that’s all that matters.