Life is hard. We wake up, go to school or work, come home and take care of chores and all that, do so homework, squeeze in some down time, check social media, and somehow manage to get some sleep in the short 24 hours we're given each day. It can get overwhelming. And different people handle their stress differently. Some people exercise to release their endorphins. Some people paint to try and bring their feelings to life. Some people make music to ponder their emotions upon. Some people- and I fall victim to this occasionally- swipe their stress away at the mall or at Target. Sadly, some people use drugs or alcohol to numb whatever it is they are feeling. But for me (and this is a recent and surprising development), writing has become my outlet. To be able to put a pen to paper- or fingers to a keyboard- and get my thoughts and emotions out feels so refreshing. You see, sometimes in life, we get so caught up in ourselves and the world around us that we forget to breath and stop to soak everything in. We forget what it's like to spend time with our family or friends without being attached to our cell phones. We forget what it's like to feel the sun on our face because we would rather be indoors. We forget what it's like to smile and laugh because the world and the people in it can be so dark and cruel. We forget what it's like to love because we've been broken before and are scared to put ourselves back out there. For me, writing has been like remembering how to do all that. Sometimes, I find myself depressed and alone with my thoughts, and for a while, I didn't know a way to overcome the way I was feeling. When I expressed my troubles to a friend, she simply told me to find a outlet; find something that makes me happy and cling to it. And let me tell you, that was hard; I felt at a point in my life where not much could make me happy. But then, I picked up a pen and found a spare notebook and I remembered. I remembered how it felt to be with my friends and family and converse and spend quality time together. I relished the feeling of the sun warm against my skin. I smiled and I laughed, and both felt real and natural and freeing. And I loved. I loved myself for the first time in a long time, and learned that some things aren't worth loving and some things aren't worth losing love for. I opened my notebook and wrote and all of a sudden, I could breath again; it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest and the world no longer rested on my shoulders. You see, life is hard- I won't sugar coat that. But it's also beautiful and exhilarating and crazy and wonderful and- most importantly- worth living. So find an outlet. Find something that makes you smile again. Find that sunshine breaking through the clouds and bask in it. Hang on to that last shred of hope and let yourself breathe lighter again.