There was a time I didn't think when writing, I simply poured. Words fell out of my pens and off of my pencils then and I indulged in stream of consciousness writing. Raw and unbridled, my emotions lay exposed on the pages of a cheap hardcover journal. When I didn't write my heart out (I was a teen, after all, so writing my heart out was frequently necessary then) I wrote fan fiction, learning the basics of characterization and plot using other people's works.
I wrote through my teen angst and through my youthful imagination. My own characters and body of work started to grow out of those moments of childhood (and often childish) writing. I won publication when I was still a child. It opened a realm of possibilities to me. Suddenly I knew there was a bigger venue possible. Perhaps my words and thoughts wouldn't simply stagnate on a page with premade lines--perhaps they'd go further and be shared with others.
So I tried writing for others. It didn't work. If I tried writing to suit someone else's needs, it felt hollow to me. Cheap. I struggled to find a balance. Sometimes I stopped writing (but never for long because it tugged at my mind, paper and pen beckoning and teasing long before I could afford a computer). Whenever I would begin again, my mood lightened (even when writing on dark topics) and I felt almost unfettered.
Writing got me through my grandmother's sudden illness, my teen struggles with identity and peers, and most recently--Writing got me through the early death of my mother. When I could do nothing but be there, I could still find security in the fact that my stories (Hollow Hearts and Hollow Hills and others) were waiting... Controllable in their own reassuring ways.
Life throws conflicts at us constantly, sometimes we expect them, other times they're so much more than we could dare expect. In writing we control the conflicts. We throw them at our characters and watch them grow despite the struggle. In writing, we are all gods for as long as the pen or pencil touches paper or our fingers coax something from a keyboard. The tools change, the stories change, but our power is at least a constant in the realm of our own wordcraft. So write!