I've heard it said that there are two types of knitters--the ones who knit for the act of knitting and the ones who knit for the end result. Now, when I think about myself in this light, I think I tend to be a little bit of both. To be honest, the majority of the things I knit are for myself, and they're (obviously) things that I would like to have. I knit them for the final product. But, I truly enjoy the proces if I like what it is that I'm knitting and the material itself that I'm knitting. Even when I have to tear out rows upon rows of knitting--hours of my life being undone, hours that I can never get back. I think I've found this ability to, when I'm on the verge of a very immature temper tantrum, I just put it down and walk away or I turn the video game off (I very rarely play video games, and when I do, I don't last very long. As soon as I reach a level that is hard, I get annoyed and turn it off). It's how I've maintained my relative outer equilibrium.
Another thing is my knitting. You can tell that I'm stressed in some way because I've spent large amounts of time knitting, and it's usually something relatively simplistic, that I can knit fast and I have room to think. And, to be honest, it's something that I won't mind tearing out later. I knit the things that I don't necessarily want or need, but the simplest thing that I could possibly have any sort of interest in knitting. Something that's enough to keep me interested, but something that I don't need to pay complete attention to.
Earlier today, I frogged a scarf I starte in the beginning of December. I started it with the intention of making it a Christmas present. It became my stress-reliever. The thing I picked up when I needed a break from studying. It was the thing I picked up when the drama of dorm life got to me. It was the thing I picked up in the week before Christmas as I still struggled to handle the stress left over from my first semester of college. It was the thing I picked up when my new pendant (a pretty Miraculous Medal) fell off its chain and got lost Christmas afternoon. It kept me going for most of December as I tried to work out issues that I'd been dealing with. And then today, I tore it all out. I let it all go. I got through exams; I made it through the drama of a first semester in a freshman dorm. I made it through Christmas, and I found my Miraculous medal. I think the knitting and the frogging of that scarf represented a psychological therapy of letting it build up and then letting it all go that's hard to replace. Now, I'm not saying that these issues are resolved, because most if them are still very real, but I have the peace of mind that, great or small, they're just part of the fabric of life. A perfect life is no life at all, is it? How can you say that you've truly lived until you experience the stresses of everyday life?