This part is the worst part. Blank page. Every single thing, no matter what it is, starts this way. And every time, at this stage, I feel sick to my stomach. My heart beats too fast. Sometimes I get short of breath. Panic, anxiety. And yet, I’ve never died from writing! Nor has writing ever made me throw up! No matter how close I seem to come. The one thing I have at this stage is my name on the document. And that’s my North Star. How can I make this something I’ll be proud to have my name on? And then I push through this part, the bad part, and before you know it, I have written something, and I didn’t die, and the page isn’t blank anymore. And then I do it again and again and again. It (mostly) gets easier. This part hasn’t, so far. Maybe someday. But the only way out is through.