Twenty Five and Some Change
I am mentally, physically, and emotionally in the best place I've been in years. Maybe that means I am no longer a writer. The other night, while sharing an Uber with a friend I haven't seen in nearly three years, I stated that I no longer felt like a writer due to my blog sitting idle for almost a year and a half. Somewhat defeated, equal parts lighthearted, I let her know that I couldn't write anymore due to having good mental health. When I started this blog, I was eighteen years old, having weekly panic attacks at college, feeling like I would never find my place within this world. Eventually, at twenty-three, I started writing through the daily panic attacks that accompanied my journey through OCD/health anxiety. But now, with a brighter outlook on life, the words just don't come as easily. Believe me, I still try to write. Currently, there are roughly thirty drafts sitting in the backend of my blog, collecting dust. Despite the countless hours staring at an open...
