Do you believe in serendipity? I didn’t think I did, but after tonight I might be changing my mind.

As I was trying to come up with a topic for this post, I thought about what helps me the most when my depression is at its worst, when I don’t feel like putting one foot in front of the other or even being a part of my own life. Writing kept popping into my head.

As I was drafting an outline for the post in my head, I was flipping through Writer’s Digest, which I read every month. I came across an article called “10 Ways to Write What you “No,’” and its subheading said, “Use frustration, hurt and anger to fuel your writing.” The author, Bill O’Hanlon, explained that his writing was fueled by some of the disappointments and frustrations he encountered as a psychotherapist, which he studied to become after suffering from depression as a young adult.

I literally got chills over and over as I read this article and understood that I’d been meant to read this tonight, the very night I was planning to write about this very same thing, so I could share it with all of you.

If I had to give just one recommendation to women who are suffering from PPD or other mood disorders (other than seeing a professional, of course), I would say to write. Since I can remember, I’ve turned to the empty pages of my journals for inspiration, for relief, for a confidante, for clarity. When I have depressive episodes, I find I am more inclined to write than usual, as though my mind needs a place to purge all the dark feelings. Writing gives me an outlet for all my insides, without fear of judgment. And perhaps more important than that, writing gives me a place to go back and see where I’ve been. I can look back the next day at what I wrote the night before and realize, That’s not good. I need to do something about those feelings. In that way, writing has been an invaluable resource for me.

O’Hanlon gives ten tips for writers to write from a place of negativity and to make that useful for themselves. Not all of them apply to this post, so I’ll highlight the ones that do.

Write instead of acting destructively. This nearly blew my hair back with its force. O’Hanlon counsels writers that “the key to transforming your hurts, frustrations, fears and anger into something useful is to turn the emotion that arises from upsetting experiences into some form of creative expression” (emphasis added). Two years ago, when rage was exploding from every pore on my body like daily nuclear eruptions, writing gave me perspective. I destroyed so very much, burned so many bridges that had to be painstakingly rebuilt. Even if I couldn’t have prevented myself from doing those things, writing about them gave me a great deal of insight into my actions and helped me to evaluate feelings better when future problems arose.

Write to deal with fears or trauma. This tip has applied most to me in relation to my tendency to self-sabotage due to fear. I have an extremely hard time following through on my goals because I am scared of failure, and this fear increases exponentially when PPD is involved. Writing about what scares me makes the monsters smaller.

Write to help illuminate or correct a social injustice. I feel like I have found one of my life’s callings writing about PPD. I am able to not only explore my own experience with the disorder, but also dispel myths, decrease stigma and maybe, just maybe, help someone else along the way. Any woman who has experienced PPD and is willing to speak out is helping to illuminate a social injustice, as far as I’m concerned.

Write in reaction to something that upsets you. One of my favorite PPD posts I ever wrote was a reaction to a blogger who wrote an uninformed rant about how PPD may or may not exist. I was so infuriated that I went straight to my blog, fired off a response, and pushed “publish” without a further thought. It was cathartic, it was indignant, and it totally fulfilled its purpose–it enlightened the uneducated.

Write yourself out of (or through) a crisis. Look, I’m not saying that writing will make your PPD go away. I know there’s no magic bullet, that recovery is a process–often a painful one. But a journal, blog, novel, or whatever you feel comfortable writing can be a safe place for you to go when you are at your lowest. It can get you through.

Write from identifying with a universal struggle. One of the most rewarding parts of writing about PPD on my personal blog has been the comments from other women coming out of the dark. Sometimes people say to me, “Thank you for writing so I know I’m not alone.” And I say to them, “I’m just writing because I have to–I’m compelled to by some unknown entity. But because of you, I know I’m not alone.”

I wish I could link to this article, but unfortunately, it’s not online. I hope I’ve convinced even one person to start writing, though. Even if your words will never be seen by eyes other than your own, they will still be important. If nothing else, you will have a record of the struggle. And when you’re out on the other side you’ll be able to look back and say, I kicked that struggle’s ass.

Alexis Lesa