For me, getting started has always been the hardest part of the process. The dozens of thoughts that pop into my mind every day would vanish the moment I sat down at my desk, as if they'd never existed. I'd spend what felt like hours staring at a blank white page.

I'm not sure I can describe the sense of inferiority that comes with not being able to write a single word. It's just as hard to explain how, after a while, the frustration of knowing exactly what you want to do but being unable to start — no matter how much you want to — eventually wears you down.

It's just a frustrating feeling. A period where you constantly question yourself, and even the few lines you manage to write, you keep erasing and discarding.

Even though I've now found the courage to start and keep going — flawed as it may be — I remember that feeling very clearly.

And those thoughts that kept looping in my head, wearing me down.

There was always a question. Not just about writing. It was like that with many things.

For example, when I wanted to share an article, the first thing that crossed my mind wasn't "I can do this," but "Can I really do this?"

But these weren't just questions asked out of curiosity. You know how in movies, that little devil in black suddenly appears on the character's shoulder? Heh, that was exactly its voice.

It would rattle off one question after another, constantly making me feel inferior.

Can you really do it? Won't it be too hard for you? Are you really ready? What if this happens? What if that happens…?

As you can see, my thoughts weren't exactly motivating, nor did they have any real purpose. Even if I caught a few fleeting thoughts here and there that believed I could do it, it didn't take long for the negative voice to take over.

My self-confidence was thus fading away beneath that pile of thoughts.

That's why I always placed people who knew what they wanted and made an effort for it in a different category in my mind. It was as if they were different from me. I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd started life at a disadvantage.

Was it a lack of courage? Or did I simply not want it enough? Did I lack the strength to do what I wanted? Or was I truly not good enough?

I have to admit that it was a period when I was beating myself up relentlessly. If you're someone who, like me, tends to overdo self-criticism, you'll understand what I mean.

Setting aside my feelings of inferiority about writing, I was unconsciously letting that feeling spill over into other areas of my life. That feeling had taken root at the very center of my life.

The more I pushed myself, the worse everything got.

By the time I sat down at my desk to write, I wasn't doing it for the joy of it — I was trying to write just to prove myself.

I'd manage to write something, barely. But every time I went back to read it, I'd feel even more inadequate.

There was a sense of alienation in every sentence I wrote — something I couldn't make sense of or trace to its source. There was a void, a flaw, and no matter what I did, I couldn't fix it.

I couldn't find anything to write about. No matter how hard I thought, nothing came to mind that I could write about. It was as if all the topics, sentences, and words were playing hide-and-seek with me.

Then I gave up. If I had nothing to write, there was no point in struggling.

I think what scared me most about starting to write again was the memory of the wreckage left behind. I was afraid of becoming that person again.

Now, maybe my writing is still flawed or incomplete. I don't know. But I can see that the person I was back then has grown.

Writing is no longer a test for me; it's one of the most enjoyable moments of my day. If I were to say my thoughts are now positive and aimed at motivating me, I'd be lying. But I've accepted that my thoughts don't have that kind of purpose — unfortunately, our brains just don't work that way.

The beautiful thing is that, whether good or bad, a thought is just a thought. That's why I've learned not to dwell on those negative echoes in my head. I suppose I've just let them be.

Most importantly, I've noticed a change lately. Something I didn't expect.

The person who used to struggle to find something to write about can't stop the ideas from flowing now. I've even started planning which day to write about which topic.

Who knows, maybe it's the perfect time to finally start writing that children's book I've always wanted to write.