Category: mental health

I’ve always called myself a writer, ever since I started writing little short stories I never finished at 7. I’ve always used writing as an escape, from life, from homework, from friends and family.

It’s taken me years (and an SSRI, and ADHD medication) to realize that wasn’t completely healthy. But when I was a teenager and in my early 20’s, writing was my therapy. Writing helped me get through the hard things in life even though I would always insist: “I’m fine.”

The SSRI (Lexapro and then Prozac) helped pull away the curtain of pretend. I could no longer tell myself I was fine, I could no longer lie to myself. That was a blessing and a curse.

I found myself needing to “Do More”. I needed to get out of my head and do something physical to keep the feeling of “not doing enough” at bay.

I started gardening. I started knitting and crocheting. I started reading more books and watching more Netflix and building up my internal well of creativity.

I was able to finally look outside of myself and be more present in the world. That feeling is fantastic! I wasn’t stuck in my head all the time, overthinking every little detail of my life. I wasn’t overthinking if I was too much of anything. Too loud, too slow, too dirty. I was just able to be in those moments and create something great.

I’ve loved the time away from the page. The time I allowed myself to do more and eventually be more. I took a break from being cooped inside in front of a screen, typing away like a maniac, and I’ve come back better for it.

I have a lot more knowledge on other aspects of life. I’ve learned and grown and become something more than I ever thought I could be.

Now that I’m returning to the page, returning to the blog and Medium and Substack, I feel much more prepared to be successful.

I hope you’ll join me.