It might be worth mentioning that I’ve been writing fiction for a while now, and I write quite frequently, with the stoicism of someone who now they’ll never be great but says, “Fuck it!” and writes anyway.
I posted a short story to a reddit subforum just now, based on weird dreams, ghost stories and being on prescriptive drugs. Most of the story is fiction. Alina, for example, is a purely fictional character. But I do find my sister by the living room window, just staring out, occasionally.