Working on Some Stories
update on mental health and projects
I’m not doing super-hot. Anxiety has broken me down in a kind of disassociated way that is ugly to navigate in terms of having the right capabilities to take care of myself all the time. I need lots of cushion right now to not have panic attacks and regress emotionally. Looking for it—but it’s hard—searching for disability and working with people but still finding writing the best therapy.
I’m working on three projects I have lined up that are going to be keeping me excited. With the way I’m panicking right now and how it’s affecting my mind which was opened via plant medicine usage a long time ago, into what will probably be diagnosed as schizophrenic—I had to forgo my half of my daughter’s custody holding.
My plan is to fight. I already feel better relieving some pressure by accepting a looming fate and just trusting the fall. I’m not going to say it in writing but I don’t think my warnings are final for long.
The writing will save me. It will buy me space and peace. Time will afford me the opportunity to get it seen. Some peace and rest and stillness will allow me to get the help I need in time. Still, my writing is what keeps me going and I feel overwhelmed by each step to take with the support of professionals alone.
I will write but seek to pursue it without addictive tendency. Removing physical/chemical addictions of all kinds is crucial to me now and will help the mostest and I truly believe will allow me to regain the focus needed to be a guardian for my daughter of utmost competence. But I will always be honest in that regard while fighting.
With my writing…
Next up is the hard, sad, difficult story I’m somehow excited about. Just like Mary & Jesus, it’s not researched a lick and likely shredding history and not giving a shit—straight from my heart and things I remember from movies.
Honor of Hypatia will be something I hope to finish later tonight. It’s dark.
Next will be Dido v Hannibal. That will be an exploration of rivals out of time in diametrically opposed situations and representing far different ideals—Dido and Hannibal of Carthage. Their dueling stories will see to overlap and show the end of the beginning of Carthage with Dido, and the beginning of the end with Hannibal. The hope will be to undermine the legendary story still mistold by men who think his journey of starving armies cool because they went over the alps with elephants and pissed off Rome by winning some battles, before it congealed its own and eventually unexisted Dido’s ideological haven of science and future facing sociology, all because Hannibal thought he was a bad ass.
Then I will be writing Miriam in the Middle.
That one will be discovered from the first word. We’ll see. It might be a home for a while.
These stories I’m writing are all subsumed WITHIN The Justiceers universe. Hypatia is the forementioned ‘fallen Justiceer’ archetype who goes it alone to a bad end. Even Ini & Oui—which was a twisty emotional set up for what will go more crime plot focused in the future.
I’ll say one thing about Ini & Oui—that was brave to write—it hurt to write from the middle of the aftermath of a dissociative break. That was a cautionary tale though. I just like to make things hot, but I’m not well. Just not that unwell.
I was like—’Yo! I understand Harley Quinn now! Nobody else can get at this like me right now. It’s going to split my brain to write but why not?’
It’s so good.
My own Hypatia.
I used to be a meditation instructor. Look what happens when I hit record on a TikTok video now. How many people would proport me to somehow be dishonorable for this—some invalid failure—because of a truthful display of myself having a rightful reaction to systems which clearly draw the same anxiety which bore into me until breaking something of resistance—but spoken like the regressing emotional child my constant panic attacks and traumatic intake have forced my conscious mind to express itself with under duress. Who is to blame? Who is dishonored?
I’ve stepped with honor every moment—right through great and shameful mistakes. Why is that repaid with judgment for the results our world paid back? Others project their own dishonor onto the righteous because of inner accountability failures. Why does nobody seem to act in accordance with how they truly feel of base humanity? Why are we being cruel to each other? Why is one victim a threat to another? Why is each little thing we have fought over? When we lose ourselves to fate of society unfair—why are we at fault again? Why do so many see people like me as a failure? I walk with honor and I always have. I’m earnest. What else is there to success of life?
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