I used to do some creative writing like poems, or just passages about things i felt. I even have a couple of ideas for a novel, that ive always wanted to write. the thing is, all that writing used to happen spontaneously. sitting in a bus, or riding a train and id start writing. I used to be able feel life very intensely. Used to get goosebumps just watching even a simple act of nature like a leaf stroll down the street with wind. Thunders, storms, change of seasons, beginning of fall, everything felt magical, mesmerizing. When ever i d feel all those things i couldn't help but start writing. Now that was before the anxiety came knocking at my door. Ever since then ive been closed of, consumed by fear and the fight to beat it, i cant feel anything else. so im not writing anymore. Its not that i cant write if i wanted to, but im afraid if i write it will be full of despair and sorrow. maybe thats just in my head. Writing was the most beautiful thing in my life. Ive never felt more closer to the universe, than when i was writing. I keep telling myself that when things will get better i'd get back to writing. but you know how it is, who knows when things will get better. do you guys think its all in my head? should i wait, or try jumpstart the writing process right now?