Recently I have been keeping up with my own, in a friend’s term, Indigo Blue Funks, meaning my depression. Over a decade later, the least I can do for myself is learn more about it. In the last 60 days, I’ve spent 41 days Down. Now, that means 2,460 days down over the last 10 years. That is roughly six and a half years.
I have figured out the only way to assist myself in learning to live with this for the rest of my life is to keep up with it. When I finish an episode, I like to call it cocooning, I need a few days of rest. When I go through one it’s like someone grabbing you by the throat and squeezing until you have access to only 20% of your oxygen. Your internal power gets cut like someone literally turns the lights out. It waits there until everything eventually grinds to a trickle. This takes a toll, life doesn’t just turn down with you. You grind through it, with the knowledge and hope, that it will lift again.
I say all that to say this, it may take a little longer than I anticipated to get The Red Queen completed, edited and uploaded for sale. Right now life is getting in the way, my mental health is an issue that I have no other choice but to deal with. Also looking for a job to say it plainly. No one becomes “well known” or “famous” quickly. It takes some time and I am still dead set on this course for my future. I have to practice patience here.
I am an advocate for mental health and ignoring it is not the correct course. Unlike some, who are diagnosed with Depression, mine is for a lifetime. It started in 2007 and never stopped. I think it is GROSSLY misunderstood or misrepresented. I think you give power to yourself through knowledge and I have learned to live with it. It so far has stolen away over 6 years of my life. However, either you can the product of your environment and lament, or, you can decide to be more. The choice is really up to you. I am not a professional, but a patient. One who has spent years learning from this disease with no end in sight, and I like to think that means something. My father died, killing himself when I was young. He made it to 34 years of age, I am now 42. My writing keeps me, and someday, I will keep it.