I think in verse. Not always. Not every day. But – I think in verse.
- when I’m distressed
- when I’m heading to shutdown, but more especially meltdown
- when my head is just so full of STUFF that I can’t get my thoughts into coherent speech
- when my fear, anger, self-loathing take hold of my being
- when I need to order my thoughts before they lead to self-destruction
That’s when I think in verse.
And I have to write it down. I have diaries and journals and notebooks spread over many years recording my anguish. Sometimes with an image. Sometimes scrawled page after page. Sometimes just a few lines.
Usually it works, helping to dispel the negatives inside my head. Distilling into a page or two feelings that would take minutes and hours to express verbally.
When I’m feeling OK I don’t write like this because there’s no need. I’ll still write, and I rarely re-draft, it’s still cathartic, but it’s no longer a frenetic act. That’s when I don’t need to sleep after because I’m drained by the experience.
But I still think in verse.