Alright, so, I've been gone for a while now. A lot happened. My mother found out about my bisexuality, my agnoisticism, and my efforts seeking psychological help. He didn't blow up as I had expected. Honestly, I'm pretty happy about how well she's taken it-- saying r.e. orientation something like "I've known for a while, just waiting for you to tell me"-- and she's zeroed in on the mental health problems. That's something that I've been dealing with, worse these past weeks recently than usual back in the summer and spring. I can go on and on about it, that sort of inky blackness coursing inside of me that almost keeps me from living, but...
Well, alright then. Guess who's been diagnosed with depression and schizophrenia (together, known as 'schizo-affective disorder')? If you said "Swiper!", then you win a churro! Since I can't teleport it to you, I'll eat it on your behalf. But, in all seriousness, this has been... very rough...
It's scary. Going from office to office, getting blood drawn for tests, and waiting in those waiting rooms... it's just... horrible, honestly, it's hard to find the words to describe that feeling of having both your mind and body against you, eating away at you. I'm now on 150mg of quetiapine fumarate every single night. I don't know if it helps. It'll be weeks and weeks until I could even tell for sure.
I know that this is not my fault. I can't blame myself any more than someone can blame themselves for diabetes or cancer or some other crippling illness. Yet, honestly, it feels different. Having schizophrenia feels like failure. It feels like a character weakness. It feels like worthlessness. I see the Connecticut shooting news on television, and I cry. Not just for the victims, but for the shooter-- he too was a human being with dignity and worth that did a horrible thing but was not inherently evil. All deaths are a tragedy. And now, like clockwork, we shall see the mainstream American media take this shooting as another opportunity to tell viewers that schizophrenics are all time-bombs waiting to go off-- that they are creepy losers that you need to lock up your daughters to keep them safe from.
Now, then, I haven't written anything for a while (sure, some authors go months and months without doing anything, but I'm not really one to be like that). And, well, I've tried to turn my inner turmoil into prose before. I did it with Rarity's Raspberries, with Dash's Tears in the Rain, and with other stories. This one, I have to say, is closest to home.
When You Fall, I Can't Catch You
Yes, this is almost all auto-biographical. And I didn't want to write it. I just had to write it. I consider it part of the therapy.
Honestly, I expect this story to go over as well as a lead balloon, maybe drowning in down-votes from a public that would much rather like the light, happy comedy things that I've usually written. But I'm releasing it anyway. Do, please, read and comment!
*hugs you all very tightly*
I'm not familiar with the site now that it's been redesigned.
But, wow, I see that now I guess I'm... featured!
At any rate, I have to say that I really do want people to read this story in the sense of-- well-- support. There are hundreds upon hundreds of people out there suffering from schizophrenia and from depression. And I've bawled my eyes out about being diagnosed with both. I just want to make some kind of sign that those people are cared for. If my one story helps to change one mind or maybe just open one single person's heart, then it's worth it.
*hugs you all again*
Oh, and one important thing! Please read as well: The Love of a DJ by Shadowflash and The End by Art Inspired!
Again: The Love of a DJ and The End (You won't regret it! Read them!)