Comfort

This week’s journal entry:

Describe the one thing that gives you the most comfort. Why does it comfort you?

By Laura Black

            This is a hard one. I can think of many things that give me comfort. I have a certain group of people that can offer me comfort in different situations. They can offer comfort for different reasons too. But a thing? I would not refer to people as a thing, so there are two things that stand out the most. I have always felt comfort in writing and reading. I know. I’m sure that’s a big surprise to anyone that truly knows me. Hahaha. To pick one over the other would be hard. I believe I like them equally and for different reasons. Yeah, I definitely can’t pick one. I have to tell you the reasons why both comfort me.

            Okay, so I have to specify with reading. This doesn’t mean reading anything comforts me. There are certain things I read that comfort me. I don’t enjoy reading academic books unless, of course, they apply to writing. Books on writing, however, can still get boring. I have to really be into a writing book in order to keep my interest. I’m not too fond of reading articles online or in magazines. I can, but I prefer not to. For me, my absolute favorite type of reading is fiction.

Reading fiction comforts me because it’s an escape. I can get myself wrapped up in a story that has nothing to do with me. It comforts me because it allows me time alone and time not to think or worry about my own life for a while. It’s not like I have a horrible life and need to find an escape. For me, it’s my outlet not to overthink and worry.

For example, I need to read before going to bed to escape my own mind. If I don’t read before going to bed, then I will replay my entire day in my head. If something went wrong at any part of my day, I will replay it and try to think of anything and everything possible that I should have done differently. When that happens, I do not sleep. When I don’t sleep, I don’t function well. I become irritable and super crabby. I don’t want to be around anyone at all. It’s just a bad situation altogether for me.

There are times, though, that reading doesn’t help me escape my own mind. When that happens, my writing comfort kicks in. Writing has always been a love for me. It’s another time where I can be alone. This one allows me to be in my mind, though. Writing, for me, is a comfort to help me either work through an issue or just allows me to be creative. I can either write out my frustrations and issues, or I can create a story that has nothing to do with my life in general.

When I need to work through an issue, then that’s done within my private journal. It’s a journal I don’t share with anyone, but it’s my way to express what I feel needs to be said. Whether or not I ever say it to the person(s) that are involved in the situation or issue(s), it doesn’t matter. By writing it out, I feel better about it. If I hold it all in, then I will eventually lose my shit. Losing my shit, of course, would not be a good thing.

Sometimes I use writing as a comfort to work as an escape and create a random story that just pops in my head. I just go with it and see where it goes. It’s just like reading to me expect I’m creating the story instead. I, actually, haven’t done this in a long time. I do need to get back to that. It’s a lot of fun. The problem is I have to make time to do it because once I start, it’s hard to stop.

The one thing that both reading and writing offer me as a comfort is I can always count on them. They are always there for me no matter what. I can pick up a novel and escape to a world where I have no connection other than observing from afar, or I can pick up a pen or start typing and allow my thoughts to pour out without fear of saying the wrong thing. No one is judging me, and I can truly be at peace with myself. Peace always brings me comfort.

What about you? What brings you comfort? Can you just pick one? I couldn’t.