Am I sick? Maybe, maybe not. Do I need help? Not sure about that either. But in high-school, I did not lost my passion to write alone, I lost the part of me that was burning with passion to do whatever she likes, to hell with other people's opinion. Feisty one, isn't she? Instead of using writing as a therapy, I was under immense pressure to even complete the draft for my final year project. Initially it was planned to be published, but I chickened out after I finished my Diploma.
I used to think of Wattpad as my safe haven but now, even when I am itching to start a new fanfiction (despite the disastrous, cringe ff I wrote when I was 12) I can't silence the noises, the thoughts of negativity, the criticism that I will face later. If its a good critics, I will accept it but a part of me will not be satisfied by it.
"How can I be better?" "Should I cater to my reader's tastes?" But then, I am doing this for myself, not for others? Then before I knew it, it will be another drawback as I retreat from society. I don't have much friends, you see. Only a handful and even so I can't help but to think of myself as a burden.
-cont