I learned to escape in middle school, first it was the pool class we had, then it was writing.
I was bullied in middle school and the pool was the only retreat I had. None of the bullies had that class, and because of that I felt at home in the water.

I felt as if I was meant to be in the water, not just as an escape, but that it was something I should embrace, and I did for a long time, but I haven’t been a pool in years, not for lack of desire, but for lack of access.

Just after I got used to the pool I started writing, only for myself out of fear. I started filling notebooks and would use money I’d gained from doing chores for notebooks.
These notebooks are lost now and though I wish I’d retained them for myself. I’ve thought about them recently, only because I’ve begun feeling out of water again.

I’ve started writing more—a lot more—and because of it I’ve been thinking about when I’d sit up writing in bed, only the light from outside to fuel my frenzied scribbling.

There were a lot of stories in those notebooks which I don’t remember, a few poems too.

When life got out of control I had the pool and writing, both of which have always given me the comfort of escaping my life.
The pool was a physical escape from the troubles I faced in the halls of the middle school.
Writing has always been my mental escape, my way of getting my mind off the things that distracted me from living.

Today things are distracting me which I’m trying to control, but like middle school the writing, much like the meditation I practice, keeps me grounded in the now and makes my life complete, at least in my mind.

The reality of life is nothing is ever as perfect as we want it to be, not our writing, our personal lives or the relationships we have with our family and friends.

With perfection we’d have nothing to write about.

With the troubles of daily life, we keep our heads down in our laptops, notebooks and PC’s.
Writing is an escape from reality that I need, without it I know I wouldn’t have made it through middle school, without the pool I know I wouldn’t have gone home every day in a good frame of mind.

Without the pool and the pen I’m not sure where I’d be today.