Writing is my calling. Writing is my gift, ever since my ninth grade English teacher told me that on our last day of class. It is something that nobody could ever take away from me. It is something of my very own, that was supposed to always be with me.
And I’ve neglected it horribly these past few years.
I’ve been spending so much of my waking moments keeping my head above water, trying to keep from drowning because of real life matters, that I’ve not devoted anything to my passion and true career. It simply hasn’t figured at all in my life. It’s been more than two years since I wrote an op-ed piece, and I had to give up a plum gig at The Western Journal, things became so rough on my end.
Life was so much better when I was working as a mental health professional. I ...
