Hey, Miss J!

It can be relatively easy to fall into a pattern.

I used to have one.

My waking hours fluctuated wildly, but I was fine with it. I woke up normally when the sun was up or rising regardless of when I went to bed. I had various things I had to do during the daytime, but there was that long stretch in between where I had to go out to work.

I feel so strange no doing that now.

Even though it was hard on my body, and I felt heartbroken on more than one occasion – it was part of me.

My writing was part of me too, but it never brought in any income. It was pushed all the way back for work.

Truthfully, everything was pushed back for work.

Once I suddenly had far too much time on my hands, I didn’t know what to do. I felt just like I had after my surgery in 2019… when I was at home for close to six weeks recovering. At first, I was hyped because I had all of this time to do other things.

Then, I realized I had too much time to think.

Then my mood spiraled down into the pits. The difference between 2019 and 2020 was stark. In one year, I lost my mother. The next, I nearly lost my father.

I started struggling more with my mental health.

I don’t like calling it a struggle, but it was. I’d had periods of depression before, but I had work to distract me.

Losing that decade long routine hit me hard and fast.

Not only did I not have anything to bring in funds, but now I had nothing to fill that void. I never thought that my occupation was tied to an integral part of my sense of identity.

But that loss…

Oh.

I felt like I was unable to stop my own descent, twisting and spinning in open air and praying that I landed somewhere.

Maybe I would hit a soft surface?

Eventually, I plummeted so far that I just wanted my life to end.

When I did land, it was in my current psychologist’s chair. I voiced my skepticism of her aid. I didn’t want to acknowledge she could do anything for me.

But she did. In April 2021, she made a call that resulted in police coming to my house. At that time, I felt so numb – didn’t want to keep beating myself over the head to try to just go on.

The stress and loss piled up on top of me, and I really wanted just to die.

Now? Medicated to the hilt, I have had to deal with the ramifications of being well and sort of functional.

I cannot stay awake long, am sluggish in the mornings, afternoons and evenings.

When I take my happy dual-green pill. If I don’t… well…

I’ll be up all night, staring at the ceiling or running through YouTube – which I had to set a block up on my phone for.

I think I need a break from the news for a while.

And I also need a break from the opinions of other people. For some odd reason, on the whole, people act as if they’re experts on anything and everything. Especially on YouTube, Facebook and other social media platforms.

All that social media has succeeded in is encouraging ignorance and a lack of any prudence at all.

And lots of selfies… and shallowness.

It hurts people who see that as their only outlet.

So what is my daily routine now?

Get up, try to shower and fix breakfast. Swallow pills. Meet up with friends on video calls. Swallow pills. Call a friend and talk about later plans. Try to do something constructive while being fatigued. Swallow pills. Then bed and repeat.

How I get any writing done in the middle is beyond me.

Updates on NtC soon!

Till Then!

~ J. Lyst