Bump in the Road · 11:02am May 5th, 2019
The following blog is rated Mature due to adult and possibly triggering content. You have been warned.
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So, winter was hard. I found myself a cave to live in through it all.
It kept me alive, it kept me going. It was a place to recover. But it was also a very lonely place, in the middle of nowhere, and I was dependent on a very tenuous road and vehicle. On at least 2 separate occasions those things failed me, and the emotional darkness surged in while I sat in physical darkness and listened to the wind howl.
On 2 different occasions I made moderate attempts to end my existence, and no, I won't go into the details. I have and had a support network but on both those occasions I was unable to reach out due to local conditions. On those occasions I stood alone, and it wasn't enough. I survived, but I found myself reeling from crisis to crisis.
Spring came. A time of renewal, a time of hope, and the time of my short term lease ending and being told to GTFO along with all the other over winter tenants. Where I live there is a rental housing crisis, with a vacancy rate of less than 0.1%. I found a place to live 4 days before I had to be out of my winter digs, and as luck would have it, its a good place.
Physically, things were and are looking up. Emotionally however, the fight goes on. When the real estate agent said, "Welcome Home" when we signed the lease agreement on the new place I almost collapsed in tears in front of her. Happy tears, but the visceral strength of that reaction along with the constant urging of those dear to me, motivated me to open up to my physician.
My doctor is very, very Russian. Her name is Olga, seriously... it is. Russian doctors give no fucks. You have issues, they act. When I told her of my attempts she immediately placed me on anti-depressants and set up a flash referral to psychologist in her practice. She also set up a meeting for me with provincial Mental Health.
Now at this point you might be wondering, "Why is Penalt telling us all this?"
The reason is two-fold. First off, to quote Spider Robinson, "Shared pain is halved, shared joy is doubled. Thus do we refute entropy." The second reason is due to the effects of the anti-depressant Dr. Olga gave me. The drug gave me time to recognize my incoming fears, terrors and depressions, and then bring old defensive thought processes into play to counteract them. Or at least keep them from driving me down again.
The downside is that the drug also came with multiple side-effects. Among which was the growing inability to write more than a paragraph a day. As the days on the drug went by, I lost contact with my muse on an ever increasing basis. Combined with the other negative side-effects I decided to stop taking the drug 4 days ago. It's like a blanket is being slowly lifted up off of my brain, and I can feel my muse starting to pull on my reins again.
Yes, my fears and depression are making inroads again, but having a counselor now, and going into cognitive behavior therapy is helping. Plus, I'm keeping the remainder of the drug in case I feel myself sliding into a spiral again. It was a good drug, a fine drug, but sometimes there comes a choice between living, and being alive. I choose to be alive, and fates willing, to live for a long time to come yet.
Story wise, it means I'm able to go back to work on the clop story I was writing when I hit this chemical bump in the road. After "Tale of the Tail" I will write another chapter of Brightly Lit and then... well, there are always possibilities.
Let me conclude this by giving the following words of advice:
- You are not alone. Even when things are at their darkest, you are not alone.
- If, like me, you are or are having struggles, build yourself a support network. Find what works for you and go with it.
- Have emergency contact numbers for mental health supports displayed in prominent places so you can see them, when you need them.
- Talk to medical and mental health professionals.
And remember,
"Shared pain is halved, shared joy is doubled. Thus do we refute entropy"
you also have a furry coyote who jumps on your bed to grab your clothes and tug
5053784
Among other things...
Shit man, that all sounds super rough. I hope everything works out for you. Stay safe buddy.
Despite writing being my trade, I am mostly without words. Every time I see you log on, it brings me joy, and when I see you chatting—excitedly—it makes my day a little brighter.
Keep fighting, mate.
I'm too poor for much else, but hey. If you want/need/feel like farting around by chatting with strangers, I won't turn you away.
5053790
The battle continues, on every square of the board.
5053791
You were my first friend on FimFiction. I look on you as friend and mentor, and I try to pass on what I've learned in payment for how you helped me get going.
Glad things are looking up a bit.
Such drugs make you stop living, for someone who already isn't alive can't wish for death. And dead can't create aswell.
Twice in my life i have been homeless for a month during winter. I know the darkness. Fortunately time passes and pain can ease with that time. Know that others struggle to keep plodding onwards. But each new day can bring wonders undrempt.