it's been so long since I wrote something in here

I've been in a slump for so long. I wanted to write again but I couldn't continue. Everytime inspiration arrives or I feel motivated to write what's on my head the empty white screen overwhelms me. Even when I'm in the middle of typing the thought of "you'll eventually leave this one so why bother writing?" stops me from continuing.

It's my fault. I know.

I loved writing stories ever since I was a kid. It was an escape from reality. My safe haven. A world I can control. A story that even though had a bad start--will eventually turn out good.. .I know because I'm the one tailoring the events. I know why it happened, why it needs to happen and when it will start or end.

When I can't process or express my emotions in the real world to real people, my stories enable me to freely convey them without the feeling of being judged or being ostracized for possesing them.

But while I'm having my fun in a fictional world I created--I was slowly fading in reality. I realized that while I was building my own world at the tip of my fingers.

While my made up characters are having their developments, I am having a crisis on my own. While my protagonist are making friends, I am losing mine. While the conflicts in my stories are getting solved, mine's pilling up. While their questions are getting answered, mine's left unexlpained.

Even though I loved writing I came up with a decision to stop.

Stop using most of my time building a fictional world and start concentrating on reality.

I gained everything I lost after some time when I did it.

I had time to work on myself. I've lost some toxic friends and gained new real ones. I successfully surrounded myself with people that helped get through tough times and overcome trials.I finally got the job of my dream which I am so grateful for. I love my work and the people I work with, it's like I finally found my people. I've resolved conflicts in my life and I finally had the answers to my questions.

Now's everything is back to normal I wanted to start writing again but then---I couldn't anymore.

It's like the price I should pay for having this kind of life.

When I was too indulge with my imagination I was anxious for not being able to connect to the real world like normal people does.

But now that I am connected to the real world--I am anxious that I'm not that indulge anymore with my imagination.