Sometimes

Waking of Tuesday, May 29, 2018

Sometimes

D-amphetamine.

Venlafaxine.

Prazosin.

Mirtazapine.

Ketamine.

Theta burst.

Uhrmm the Iodine feels pretty good, actually. Better.

Better than I’ve been . . . in years.

Thanks, Alex.

Had it really been three months?

Three months?

That was so long....

And how long had it been since December? Nearly half a year?

What was wrong with me?

My name is Andrea and I suffer from depression.

Sometimes I used to joke to myself and to others: “I can’t kill myself—I haven’t played the next Zelda game!”

‘Cause, you know . . . . it feels like there’s always gonna be another one . . . . somewhere down the road.

What happened in December? Oh, I was just writing a letter. To the Big Guy. Aonuma. Regarding this log. Wanting to share. Just wanting to share my mad little fan-love catastrophe I seem to have created here.

I haven’t sent it yet—the lower corner of the back page just looked so empty, like it wanted to hold some fanart. So I set to drawing some.

I haven’t finished that either.

Maybe I just wanted it to be too perfect. And I set out to do it, and then I get daunted and discouraged; I used to draw ALL—THE FRIGGIN’—TIME, what the heck was the matter with me?

Sometimes you have bad breakdowns.

Dark times.

But sometimes you find a respite, or solace from a kindly hand.

Encouragement.

And this Tuesday . . . . well it was blessedly quiet and calm. Much needed after two hours’ sleep the night before and only a brief nap in between.

Not three months. I couldn’t go past three months. I turned on the game.

I was still in the Deku Tree’s Navel.

And there was that doppelganger song again. Like an older, slightly more mature brother to the SS Faron Woods music.

Ah but even now as I try to recall it.... all I can hear is the colorful Kikwi forest....

But it was . . . . nice.

I wished I could play the discovery of the Master Sword again, but.... my last manual save was all the way back in the Spring of Courage, and the next autosave after that was already in the Keo Ruug Shrine.

Mmmm too far removed and out of reach....

Hhhh, and I dared not trigger another autosave by moving from the place that I was in—that tight little hollow. I just.... stepped around. Stood.

But the music was still so nice.

Soothing.

It was the nighttime version of the song.

In the end I only paused the game, turned the volume up a bit, and moved to where my computer and tablet were in the other room. How long had Photoshop been open with that file?

I cleaned up Link’s hair quite a bit, and added some more definition to his face—poor guy’s got eyes finally....

I wonder how many bandoliers and accessories I want to bother with. Even the Slate....?

But.... the evening and the conditions were good: I could still draw. I could still draw if I tried and if it was quiet. Maybe things like the Slate won’t be as difficult as I fear they might.

I didn’t realize how much just hearing the music would . . . .

I don’t know, it just made me feel . . . . It made the world feel . . . . softer.

It made it feel okay.

I had just been hurting so much and been so impatient for weeks.

Impatient for everything to just be over with.

I wanted to die.

Sometimes I still do.

Sometimes, I used to joke to myself.

Sometimes, it’s not a joke.

Sometimes you’ve just got to hold on to something.