Today, I wore a top my mama bought me. Also, this is the end of BEDA. So, now I must ask, what was the point?

It's the last day of BEDA. I have to say I'm not sure how I feel about this past month of blogging. I just went back and read over all 29 of the posts preceding this in chronological order.

At the beginning of the month, I was set on using this opportunity and this space to practice my writing. I thought this could be something I could use to better my skills as a writer. Just through practice, my fingers might have gotten more agile at typing I suppose (although I still make plenty of typos). But as the month has progressed, I feel like I've undergone a change.

My first few posts are all about my thoughts. I valued my thoughts that I could just type into a box and press publish. It didn't matter if they were read or if anyone else had any opinion of them. They were my words and my thoughts and just by writing them they had worth.

Now, however, my last few posts have been questioning this worth of words and writing. So I'm left with this question that will directly affect whether or not I continue writing here consistently. Is it worth it? Did it help? Or did it make it worse?

I have lamented recently that blogging/writing has become difficult over the years because it has forced me to record a life I would rather forget. But I can't forget it. That clip from my story-in-progress-forever is all about NOT FORGETTING. There isn't just worth in the putting of the words out into the world. There is also worth in being forced to acknowledge them and remember them. And so perhaps this writing hasn't just help my technical writing skills, perhaps this exercise has been helpful for my mental health. And if it's painful now, there will be value in this ordeal/endeavor when (if) I come out on the other side.

I can't help but remember that the last time I attempted to blog every day was in August. At that point, I had thought it would help, too, and look where it got me. Is this the start of that same cycle? Who knows. I might go through my blog on Sunday and delete all of these posts.

It's also worth mentioning that I suppose the fact that I even consider writing as a part of my life is relatively atypical of most of my friends here at school. I'm not sure how I feel about these words that I've written.