Writing, to me, is like...well...a good purge.
Couldn't I find a better metaphor? Maybe. Probably. I'm sure.
Still, let me explain. My brain gets clogged, and so do my heart and my emotions. The badness--the "waste matter"--builds up uncomfortably.
I so don't like where this is headed, but I'll keep going.
When I write, somehow everything gets cleaned out. It's like the unwanted thoughts and feelings come down my arms, through my fingers, and onto the screen, or onto the paper via the pen, should I choose to go that route. And, as it all comes out, I start to heal. Anxiety is soothed. Depression is lifted, often. I'm usually a better person after I write than I am before, or at least smarter, to a degree.
Writing also gives me the chance to see what all's up there in the old noggin, so to speak. It's like sweeping out all the piles and scatters of rubbish down a chute and spreading it on a page. I'm often impressed a what my brain's managed to absorb over the years. That stuff is seldom ready for me when I talk, but somehow it comes out when I write.
Ok, in this blog I've likened my writing to garbage and other waste. I'll flatter myself that it doesn't read that way, at least the majority of the time.
But I know this: writing lightens me. I learn while I write, I grow while I write, and as I said before, I heal while I write.
Give it a shot yourself.