I come from a jumbled up family. Both sides of my parent's families have struggled with addiction, and as a result, I have too. Both sides have had depression, as have I. Both sides are extremely intelligent, creative, and booksmart. I can't be diagnosed with any of those things, so I can't really speak on them being passed down to me.
I am not strong. I am not athletic. I am not skinny. I am not hardworking. I am clingy. I am extremely open with my feelings. I am a hopeless romantic. I am an idealist. I wish my life was directed by John Hughes, so I could get the girl in the end, no matter how socially awkward I am.
I can't get into a prestigious Liberal Arts college with a $45,000 scholarship for academics. I can't pay for college by myself, finishing a four-year degree in three years, all while working two part-time jobs, and an internship. I can't run a PR firm from my home while taking care of a newborn son. I can't fight addiction. I can't have fun without trying. I need to take my medicine in order for people to like me.
This is why I write. To express how I want life to be. To convey my feelings without getting tongue-tied. To prove to my family that I am as good as they are, if not better.
I write to live, and I live to write.