Love, Anonymous

A frigid wind. A million whispers in each second. They might as well be screaming as they bite between my ears. A snarling, invisible beast. The inside of my mind takes many forms, most recently the storm. Isolating and unforgiving. My own voice circles me like my confidence is the tastiest dinner after a long season’s freeze.

Hi there, welcome. This is my first post here. I had the idea a long time ago of starting an anonymous blog/journal but only recently did I feel the creative spark to do so. I am, and will remain, anonymous while I post here. The only identifying information I will share is that I am a 27 year old cis-woman, living in the western United States. I am not originally from here, but from the western United States originally. I moved here during the COVID-19 pandemic, and plan to stay here as long as I can. I love to write, read, watch YouTube, anime, movies and tv shows. I am autistic and have ADHD.

I used to run a comedic mental-health blog as a hobby, until life got the better of me and I have since archived it. Since then, I haven’t craved writing as much as I once did. It was never an at-will passion, but rather a form of therapeutic process and reflection. I could never call on it; it could only call on me. After all this time, I miss writing. I miss the ease I felt after letting my mind spill over a page. Writing in a notebook felt like storing the winds inside a small locker, while posting them online is setting them free.

Being anonymous allows me to freely write without anxiety, while maybe providing a place where others can relate to the trauma-based literature. No one is truly alone, not even me. I can forget that sometimes.

Thank you for starting this journey at the beginning, here, with me. You’re always welcome here.

Love, Anonymous.