I Write When I'm Unhappy

I've noticed that, for some reason, I write when I'm unhappy. More generally, I often seem more creative when I'm less happy. How could that be?

Perhaps it's because when I'm less happy, it's like there's a hole in my life that I need to fill. My instinct is then to find or make things to fill that hole. The feeling of life lacking meaning calls attention to the need for meaning. So then I go looking for meaning. What a miracle that I can find it right in my own mind.

I saw another user's post where they commented on how religious people often ask atheists or non-believers how it is that they could find hope in their lives without God. I suppose this post is one answer to that question.

How is it that I could spontaneously find meaning in my life simply by writing out my thoughts? I'm not sure, but I certainly do. In my universe, that's as sure a fact as the laws of physics. I draw hope from my own existence; from my own soul if you will. And I don't believe in God. At least not in the sense that I think people do who would ask where I find my hope without God. But there is certainly a mystery to this spontaneous meaning-finding. Maybe that's my God. But he (it?) doesn't have a white beard.