Quieting the thoughts that race

I will straight up say that I'm addicted to xanax. I cannot sleep without it. I lie in bed and will toss and turn. My mind races. I have to take 2 xanax nightly just to shut my brain up.
I told this to my therapist last week, and, well, she wants to have me come off the xanax.
I tried to not take one on Tuesday night. I was up until after 2am and had to work with just one other teller all day. I was cranked out on coffee, and learned 2 cups a day is my absolute limit. I started twitching, but at the same time, I needed to be on top of my game at work with just 2 tellers. I haven't felt so spazzed out in a long time.
Well, that isn't really the point of my blog this morning. (1am)
I wanted to talk about my writing, another hobby that was once so significant in my life.
I used to write. I used to write a lot. I wrote short stories and poetry mostly. The poetry I wrote never rhymed and the short stories were just that, short. I was never one for much detail, which is why everytime I tried to submit a piece or a poem I was rejected. But, that was okay, and it still encouraged me to keep trying and to keep writing.
I dated this man before Michael, and once wrote him a poem. He rejected it, and in that, destroyed my love for something I once held dear. I've tried to write poetry again, and it doesn't feel the same. This incident happened well over 7 years ago? I'm not completely sure, it's been so long. I occasionally come across my old writings and pine for the days that the words would just flow out of my body.
I haven't thought about my writing until recently, when a woman from church and I started a bible study. I love the workbook we work out of, Discipleship Essentials. Every question posed is open ended, and there really aren't any wrong answers. I'm taking a journey now from being a "Sunday Christian" to an "everyday Christian." This woman told me that she loves the answers I provide for the questions in the workbook. My answers are simple, yet eloquent. She complains her answers are too verbose.
So, this has made me think. I let some stupid man take away my passion, just because he didn't like something that came from my heart. What an idiot I am!
I guess that's why he's part of my past. *grin*
Perhaps I should try to write something for Michael one day.