What’s the biggest risk you’d like to take — but haven’t been able to?
Going full ham in disclosure on living with mental illness in the form of Recurrent Depression. I have tried to keep my mental health issues separate from my content creation. This approach is to protect myself and possibly others outside of my creative endeavors.
The risk is great as it will expose so much. On the other hand, it may help others that may feel disenfranchised by the stigma of mental illness.
It’s what life often feels like.
I wake up not knowing what time of day it is aside from the Dark Hour itself for most work days.
No phone calls, texts or conversations on a regular basis from friends or family. Maybe a meme, video or fragmented messages but nothing more.
More often than not, if I’m not proactive in reaching out, the sound of silence is equivalent to a deafening roar.
Is this what living in death is truly like? To know that you’re alive but to never heard or be touched by anyone as though you were six feet in the ground?
Has the overwhelming burden of duty and responsibility become so heavy that, despite expansive means of connection, I am as though cut off from the land of the living by those I love?
Is it until I’m to be an “In Memoriam” or a message about loss or unforeseen tragedy that I will even be acknowledged as a being of any consequence?
Or will it be as I’ve seen with many — many tears wept but once I’m six feet under or reduced to ash, the world will move on as though I never existed?
There will be no butterflies symbolizing my presence. No ravens or crows as my voice, a direwolf for me to roam free in the great northern lands nor an army of undead to haunt those who thought little of me.
I will be just a muted name in the wind. Is that what will become or me long after I’m gone? Someone that is just a mere amusement but once my story’s over, just a mere comma in the grand scheme of things?
While I am awake, even on a day or night of no duty, it’s worse than radio silence. You delete those that have agendas when approaching me, it’s a barren wasteland.
This must be what living in death is. To be alive to none, dead to all yet sentient of the situation.
Is this the metaphor we found with the Death-Prince? To be spiritually be cut off from all life yet physically living among others?
Then let it be that. Just black dust in the wind. Air people neglect yet ever present. Darkness ever-present yet ignored. A sentence longed to be read and yet cut off before reaching halfway. A voice muted before it can speak up.
Here’s another sobering perspective on this whole aid situation w/getting the whole county to 100% — let’s talk about…South Park.
When parts of the town were gentrified, there was a lot of construction and renovation in the desired areas. All else was left to fall apart. Those areas were where the South Park local community lived, especially the Marshes, Cartmans, McCormicks to name some families. The new, upgraded areas were given priority while the older, lower income areas were either low priority or outright neglected.
I’m glad to see our city recover quickly. However, let’s be honest about where the immediate recovery has happened first. The areas with higher income, tourism and commerce. The rest of the city, though coming together, got the lag.
Let’s also look at another perspective — geography and vulnerability. 103 years, Tampa felt exempt to even 50% a Hurricane hit. Then Helene came by and shook it up like a warning shot. Pinellas County isn’t a surprise when it comes to it but it’s Hillsborough, actual Tampa, that had been extremely lucky. Milton wasn’t a direct hit but it did topple 3/4 of our power grid. Imagine if it did arrive at its full power and gave us a direct hit. We’d have a very different conversation.
Tampa was the most vulnerable to get whacked as far as preparation to mitigate hurricane damage. That’s what people said. Milton just exposed that weakness. This is similar to a fighter who always escapes defeat. Or worse, they always win. They know they are the most vulnerable to a vicious knockout punch or submission because of their approach to combat. Then they finally got rocked by some dude. Instead of being in the ER on life support, they’re just there for a surgery. The surgery is taking less time than expected.
I wasn’t affected in the manner 75% of the city was. However, setting foot outside my townhouse complex to go to work gave me an immense dose of reality. It was like living in an isolated, well-built castle. Stepping out felt like entering a dark land of shadow. Things outside looked grim. It made me feel incredibly grateful about how well I had it. The majority of others weren’t as fortunate.
