Is it possible to become addicted to writing? In my opinion, the answer is a resounding "yes", because I've been addicted to writing from the moment I first understood what it was. One of my fondest memories is that of my parents reading to me. My mother would watch as my eyes widened in shock at the words printed on the pages, and I can still remember desperately wanting to know how those little scribbles on the page made it so that she knew what was being said.
My father would take a different approach, asking me if I wanted him to read a book the "normal way" or the "funny way". When I picked the funny way, which I always did, he would proceed to make up hilarious character names and scenarios that had my brother and I in stitches. This taught me to appreciate humour in a story, and the art of storytelling itself, since my father was a natural.
Once I learned how to read (and this didn't take too long, as I was well ahead of my kindergarten classmates) my thirst still wasn't quenched. I wanted to be able to write as well. I was no more than four or five years old when I knew that I wanted to publish a book. When we had writing assignments, I would write pages upon pages, and illustrate each of them in detail, meticulously making sure to draw between the lines and use the proper colours to best demonstrate the mood and atmosphere of the story. I relished the way my classmates silently listened to my stories as I presented them, and I beamed when my teachers shook their heads in astonishment.
I was addicted to writing, and I've been ever since.
I would spend hours writing stories and formulating wild plots and fascinating characters, who would get involved in great adventures and beautiful love stories. I read the dictionary (twice), and tried to develop my vocabulary as much as I could. I went to a French elementary school, and so I soon began to write in French as well, enjoying the challenge of mastering this new language and its vocabulary.
By eighth grade, I had signed up on a fiction and fanfiction website, and stories were being cranked out daily. I couldn't stop inventing, imagining, writing, editing, learning. I read every book I could get my hands on, and Wednesday night was my favourite night of the week: after swimming lessons, my mother would treat us to dinner out, and then we would head over to the library. I was one of the first Harry Potter fans, and I can proudly say that I was one of the few people who were eagerly anticipating the release of the Prisoner of Azkaban, as the books still weren't popular yet. I became obsessed with A Series of Unfortunate Events, Lord of the Rings, and various other fantasy books.
Then, suddenly, when I entered high school, everything stopped. I wasn't writing or reading much, and I didn't have an excuse. I certainly wasn't very busy, as I completed my homework in the same amount of time that I had in grade eight, and I spent most of my time playing video games or going out. Why, then, had I stopped writing? Fear. My addiction to writing had reached its apex, and with that came a sudden, frightening realization: writing was everything to me. My passion. My future. What if one day I wrote a story that was just "okay", or worst, horrible? What would that say about me? It would mean that I'm a failure, and I'm worthless. This fear didn't become known to me until the ending of tenth grade, when I finally realized why I had stopped writing.
It wasn't until that moment that I noticed how miserable I was. I needed to write, because I was addicted, and it was a wonderful addiction that brought me knowledge, happiness and joy. I was craving it like I couldn't imagine, but my fear was so strong that it rode over the desire to create a new story or plotline. Finally, I tentatively began to write fanfiction again, and before long, I pushed aside my fear and finally did what I had never done before: I gave it all I had. In the past, I had simply written stories that I knew were passable, because my passable stories were far superior to those of my peers. I never wanted to fully push myself to use all of my talent and work hard at a story, because what if it wasn't good enough? That would be a horrible, crushing experience, and one that I never wanted to have to experience.
I finally began to dissect my stories word by word. I got beta readers on board, and became an editor myself, and I pushed harder than ever to hone my skills and develop my own style. I was finally writing again, and better than I ever had before. I took constructive criticism as a blessing, realizing that it would help me to become stronger and better as a writer. I didn't let it shake me or break me, like I would have in the past. I'm currently learning Japanese, and I plan to tackle Finnish next, in order to learn a whole different vocabulary and way of writing. My addiction can no longer be satisfied with simply writing in English and French; it needs more, and I have no qualms with learning new languages in order to feed it.
Naturally, my addiction to writing has simply grown since then. I feel dejected and unhappy when I haven't typed up a story, article or any other type of writing on my laptop for more than a day, and often I spend my time working or at school craving the chance when I can finally go home and just write. Poetry, fiction, non-fiction, I don't care. Even editing other peoples' work is satisfying, as is reading books. Writing has been, is, and will always be my greatest addiction, and it's a big part of who I am. For that, I'm eternally grateful, because it's the most wonderful addiction I could ever imagine having.