After sixteen years of writing I often think about why I still continue.
When I started writing, I was trying to make sense of my life. I had spent decades without knowing about myself. Learning about cerebral palsy in my forties and an autism diagnosis in my fifties added another layer of meaning to experiences I had carried with me since childhood.
Writing gave me somewhere to put my questions and gave my thoughts somewhere to go. Without it, much of what I was thinking and feeling would have stayed inside and I would have turned inwards.
Sixteen years later, I still need that.
Understanding more about myself hasn't made everything fall neatly into place. It hasn't changed the past or stopped difficult things from happening. There are still experiences I have to work through and things I am trying to understand.
Writing shifts my life into perspective. When I put something into words, I can begin to see it differently. What feels overwhelming in my head can become clearer in front of me. It allows me to question what I am feeling, why I am feeling it and what I want to do with those feelings.
It also gives me hope. Not because writing changes my circumstances, but because it reminds me that even when I cannot change what is happening around me, I can continue to understand myself within it.
Writing keeps my intentions honourable. It makes me think about how I respond to life, the person I want to be and the values I want to hold on to.
It keeps my voice alive.
For the life I didn't have the answers or the language to explain, learning late about cerebral palsy was a turning point without fully understanding what that meant for me. Later, learning about autism showed another part of a difficult life.
Now I can put those experiences into words.
Over time, those words have moved beyond cerebral palsy and autism. I write about mental health, identity, relationships, loss, grief, resilience, acceptance and change because disability has never existed separately from the rest of my life.
My experiences are my own, but the feelings behind them aren't only mine.
We may all have lived very different lives, but we all know something about uncertainty, disappointment, loss and change. We all know what it is to want to be understood, or simply to understand ourselves.
That is why The CP Diary is no longer only about me making sense of my own life. It gives me a place to continue talking about what matters.
The online world has changed enormously since I started writing. It is faster and louder, with opinions, arguments and information competing for our attention.
I still believe there is value in quiet reflection, in taking time to think about ourselves lives to understand why we feel, respond and live as we do.
After sixteen years, that is what I am still trying to do.
I continue to write because it puts my life into perspective, to stave off illness.
I write because what matters to me may also matter to someone else who is struggling.
Sixteen years ago, I began writing because I was looking for answers.
It is why I still continue to write.
