Write through the tears. It helps.

I cry a lot. I guess you kind of saw that coming per the title. But it's true... like, embarrassingly so. On top of experiencing the same stress, hopelessness, and doubt that all of us writers inevitably face (yay us, am I right?), I am also clinically very, very depressed. Like, tried all the pills, years of therapy and still little-to-no progress, depressed.

And I know I'm not the only one. I know that, like me, so many of you also struggle to thrive creatively when everything in our brain is insisting we can't. Insisting we never will. Have you ever felt that way? That what's-the-point-everything-is-horrible-please-just-throw-me-into-the-river feeling? It's hard. In fact, it's more than hard. At times, more often than I'd like to admit, writing (and literally any simple task) feels impossible.

So... how? And I don't mean "how do we carry on?" -- I'm not a therapist or a psychologist, and I'm certainly no mental illness expert. I'm not here to explore that deep, how-do-I-fight-the-good-fight question... What I am is a writer. And I am here to explore this question instead: How do we produce scenes and chapters and books and fucking inspiration when all we want to do is, you know, cry?

Well, writer friends, what I've found in my pondering isn't a cure-all answer. Sorry if that disappoints you. What I have found instead is just a collection of more questions and thoughts to go with them.

Why do we write? What first brought us to writing? And how can we manage to cling to whatever that thing was in the first place so we don't drown in despair?

The truth of the matter is writing has always been one of the very few places I feel safe. It's not always a joyful experience. It's not always a hopeful one. But it always an honest one, and that is where I find just a little bit of power and the will to continue the journey. Writers, in my experience, are some of the most shattered yet powerful individuals in existence. The most broken and the most fulfilled. The most hopeless and the most hopeful. We are a paradox. The thing that keeps us strong through the weakness is the writing itself. Our stories. And the emotional necessity to spill them out onto paper.

How can we create when depression tells us to leave everything behind and curl up into a dark corner and disappear? By remembering that in a world of our own, we can die and rise up again. We can suffer and survive. We can meet the gruesome fate or happy ending, and honestly, both are necessary. And by necessary, I mean absolutely vital. The storm never ends for people like us, but there are breaks between downpours, and in those moments -- in those brief reprieves of quiet, we can face the truth. We can create.

I wish I could say that we just need to see the light at the end of the tunnel. That some herbal tea and a good, long bubble bath will made you not-sad enough to write everyday and reach your word count goals and get you the authoring career of your dreams. But that would be a lie. For us, there is no light at the end of the tunnel; and even if it was there, we wouldn't be able to see it. For us, the tea is warm and the baths are comforting, but then the cup empties and the water cools, and all we're left with is another dish to clean and a lingering chill.

Again, sorry if that's what you were wanting to hear, but really - it just isn't that easy. And it never will be easy. Not for us. Hell, it's hard enough for authors who aren't suffering from the Big Sad! But for those of us who were born with shadows in our hearts?

Unfortunately, the mountain we must climb is twice as high. The valleys, twice as deep. And it fucking sucks.

Like I said, it's an honest place to be.

So I guess through all of my questioning and rambling, my advice for all of you Big Sad people trying to get through that next step of you writing journey (myself included) is this:

Lean into those bad moments when you write. Let the darkness of your heart stain your story. Be honest in your craft. I'll say that bit again: be honest in your craft. Do not force joy or hope onto the page if you feel none. Do not filter your story in such a way that will make it a lie. That's my answer. Do not try to make the act of writing a band-aid that will temporarily hold you together. Let it be what it is. Joy, sometimes. Pain, often - if that is what your soul requires. But always, always honest.

Let your blood (metaphorical blood only, please) spill all over the paper in the most ugly yet beautifully truthful way. It will be messy and imperfect. And you might have to write through your tears. But we can find comfort in that release. We can find comfort knowing that while we might be authors fighting depression, there are readers out there fighting also. And by creating a world of heartbreak and triumph and highs and lows and struggle and survival, maybe we also end up creating safety. Because that's what truth is, right?

It's safety. And that, ultimately, is what our story must be -- for us and for our readers.

Safety in the storm.