findingnoo

I stare blankly at the blank page in front of me. The incessant blinking of the cursor. “How difficult can it be? You’re just writing about yourself?” If we were sitting together for a coffee, I’d be able to describe the hell that has been the past year plus. I’d likely over-share, give far too many details and ramble between sips. In person, there isn’t that constant, never-ending blinking of the cursor. No, in person, there are pauses from others—the questions behind their questions. I wonder if they're wondering if I’ll tell the whole truth. Will I give you all the gory details? Will I share the severity of what’s been going on? Perhaps the constant cursor blink feels safer. credit It’s been a very long time since I last posted, and honestly, it's felt like an eternity. I know starting with an understatement might seem cliché, but it captures how strange it feels to reconnect after everything. This past year (to be honest, 5) has been a real struggle, mainly due to my mental...