A follow up blog.

I want to start out by saying thank you. I’m not apologizing for feeling the way I constantly do, because I think everyone also is feeling a lot of what I am right now. But thank you to all of the people who showed me support, donated a couple weeks ago, who check up on me, who are trying to give me advice. Anything helps at this point.

I didn’t mention a couple things because I had to stop writing last night before I had a breakdown and just posted it. It felt good to post it. But I missed things in my breakdown.

In the past half year, good lord 2021 sucks, I have:

• Fell for a job scam. They got a picture of my license and nothing more, I handled what I could on my end. A bit worrying when I’m trying to own a car.
• Bought a car from my roommate, Cullen. It needs repairs, we need to find the title and switch it all over and I need to somehow afford car insurance, but I did it.
• Gotten so much spam emails, calls, junk mail, and texts that it’s hard for me to even tell what’s real.
• Applied for about 20–30 jobs a month. I applied to one that was editing manga for a big manga publisher, which is… above and beyond perfect for me, dream job even… but I forgot so much Japanese I’m basically useless even saying I understand it. I know a decent amount, maybe. I know what pop songs are about, I can embarrassingly get through a short and curt conversation, and can barely read manga in Japanese but not really. I love researching it, but in the high speed work-place, I don’t know if that’s enough for them. It broke my heart to apply for it, because I know they would never take someone who can’t pass the literacy test. I had dream jobs in my hands and I screwed it up because I’m trying so hard to appeal to multiple places. It hurt enough to not feel confident at all about having “Basic Japanese” on my resume. I love the language and I’m kicking myself for not keeping up with studying.
• Done a total of 3 commissions. No one’s writing, no one can afford me, no one feels ready to show what they’re writing. I’m thankful for those commissions, but it just sucks. I lowered my hourly rate by 10 full dollars and it sucks and I still haven’t gotten offers.
• Started going to therapy. It’s… fine? It’s biweekly and not nearly enough. I’m losing my mind and I like my therapist now but it just isn’t ever enough. I got diagnosed with borderline personality disorder which is scary, but comforting to know that I have a name for why I feel so broken all of the time. I still want to seek treatment and possibly look into medication for… one of my ailments maybe. Maybe my anxiety because…
• Developed some form of anxiety induced insomnia, or something the hell close to it. I can barely fall asleep without exhausting myself. My anxiety ramps up when I lie down. I keep thinking that I didn’t do enough today, didn’t do x y or z, I start thinking of people I disappointed, about how I’m disappointed in myself. Maybe my mom was actually right, and that I’m just going to work at some retail joint until I die despite how well I did in college. None of it mattered because that’s just how the world works now.
• Looked into my health concerns. I’ve gotten a lot of tests done to try and figure out if I have something that’s causing my constant body pains but… nothing. I take vitamins, I eat healthy, I’ve lost weight, stretches, weights, I have tried everything. It just hurts. My body constantly hurts. My hands hurt writing this. Any attempts to diagnose this were quickly denied and I “should” be fine. This isn’t normal.

I still have good things in my life. I have friends, a loving partner, a good living situation. Cleo, the shining star in my life, my lovely cat princess. I just want to get my life together but it just feels so unattainable despite how hard I’m trying, how hard I worked. I’ve reached out to friends, trying to get any connections I have to lit mags, publishing houses, anyone they know looking for an editor, copyeditor, beta reader, whatever they need.

But these places also usually want me to write. They want me to write a LOT of things and I’m just… I never planned on writing for a dollar. I do not want to be a writer for money. I write for me, I write infrequently. It hurts to write. My hands physically hurt all of the time and I have no clear reason why so I can’t even file for disability if I wanted to.

People don’t know anyone in the industry, at least anyone who’s looking.

I’m terrified of working retail again. I’m terrified of walking around my city, I don’t even have a bike anymore. I’m not in a safe area for biking around, let alone walking. But this makes me feel extremely entitled, like I deserve to do more than work retail… and that’s just… what people have to do.

I have to get my car sorted out, I’m crying any time I spend money that people gave me to take care of it and I’m a mess. I’m trying to get therapy, trying to take care of my health. I’m trying to make my patrons on Patreon happy and they tell me that they are… but it just all feels bad. I am desperately trying my best.

I wish I could say something positive without caveats attached.