For Those Who See Me · 3:48am Oct 6th, 2013

Hello everyone. Trevor here just to say a few things.

First off, the usually apology that is oftentimes layered with so much self pity and regret that one could serve it up on some bread and still have a hard time washing down with a glass of milk. Regret to say that this post will be a tense lighter on the side of regret, if that makes sense.

Let me start by explaining.

I've been going through kind of a rough time, everyone. It's been kinda hard for me to put pen to paper, or to keep posting with regularity. Part of the reason... well a lot of the reason are a few psychological problems that I've been dealing with as of late.

I'll spare you all the details. Know, that through the circumstances of my birth and upbringing, I had managed to inherit a form of PTSD. Anxiety has been a daily deal with me, and I have to fight it with quite a bit of my will in order to do things such as writing. I desire to write, I want to write, but the moment I try to do any work parts of my mind begin to shut down. This was pretty frustrating with me, especially after seeing so many friends and others that I admire posting great works with less than half the time it takes me to write a simple page. This didn't help the anxiety, it made it grow. As it grew, so did the challenge of actually getting things done, and working on the works that I had promised, including the audiobook that still lies unfinished.

I still don't see it as much of an excuse. Part of the problem is how I constantly berated myself for letting a simple thing like emotions get int he way of progress. That I wasn't able to force everything deep enough so that it wouldn't effect me. Even going so far as to deny the possibility, that maybe I wasn't just skilled enough or able to do anything worthwhile. I wanted to do these things, but something always just seemed to hold me back, and I thought it was simply my own worthlessness.

There was also the need to hide everything. One product of my aforementioned past was the need to bury and hide emotional baggage and trauma. Survival actually called for me learn how to bury thoughts, hide tears, and do whatever I could not to let my inner demons show. I would have taken this to extreme measures at one point in my life, just to hide what I felt.

I wore a mask everywhere I went. It's effected how I interact, and it seems like it has also effected my writing. Some have mentioned how my writing seems to be sterile, like I'm merely stating events rather than expressing them through a medium of art like they should be. In life, I avoid things that cause even the smallest form of regret. Be it the fact that I was late posting the audiobook, or I make people wait too long with promised fictions. It became a very depraved cycle where I would feel the need and desire to update, to write, to do all these things for you but I wouldn't because the desire would mingle with painful memories and thoughts. Even when I do sit down to write, my mind becomes distracted by everything and anything. I feel anxious, like I need to be somewhere, anywhere else but there.

Then I feel like I've let you down. I feel like I don't deserve the very special few of you who follow what I do and expect something great from me. I have so much appreciation for you, and love for you that I simply cannot express in words.

So I don't...

I'm getting help. An observant and sympathetic doctor. A couple of generous and loving friends. I've been finding the means to my own personal redemption, and part of that is not feeling the need to hide anymore and able to give a much less cryptic explanation for my actions. I'm trying, it's just... hard. It shouldn't be hard, but it is...

I'm not looking for sympathy, empathy from you all. I just believe you all deserve an explanation. An explanation of who I am and what I want. I want to write, and I am going to try. I'm not absolved of all my problems just yet, but it won't be too much longer before I'm finally better. These psychological problems will be gone, and I may find myself writing much more than I have before. The fact that I feel relief instead of anxiety as I'm writing this is evidence of change.

I am now strong enough to survive without the mask.

I'm looking forward to being able to rest while I sleep. Looking forward to loving every aspect of life every day rather than once in a lonely blue moon. I want so much to give you all what you deserve. Works that speak of greatness in everything and in every emotion. Something to inspire you, and something to ponder.

All and all. I look forward to being a better person for all of you.