So I’ve been trying to get back to writing these days seeing that I’m doing much during what I call my “moments of a down”. And I remember dealing with my depression with writing during the pandemic, especially the second and third quarantine in France. I created a character that allowed me to distance myself from everything. But—I can’t muster the strength to go through any of my handwritten notes. Not even the ones about a third historical novel project that I was quite excited about at some point. And then, I have a few drafts of poetry in Arabic lying all over the place. I still don’t know if they’re worthy of publishing. Shall I try to bind them? They’re quite dark. Has anyone had such an experience?