Oi...life, and by extension the mind, is a fucking trip.

The entire month of August was a great time if we're being honest. Two trips to the local Renn-Faire plus my first furry convention (DenFur, but first con in general) experience. Made a handful of new friends, loosened up a bunch around some already established ones, got a bunch of new art and trinkets and memorabilia... .

So why then, do I constantly feel like I'm just a ghost. Like I don't really exist. A wandering spirit that occasionally slips to reality if only for a moment. I speak but don't feel heard. Surrounded by friends and strangers alike but this pervasive loneliness and growing anxiety that I'm running out of time just doesn't fucking stop. And you hear stories all the time of folks finding love well into their 30s and 40s but I don't...«hhhhhhrrrmm» I don't feel like I have that time. If my depression doesn't take me, something else will. Cause for all the years I've had it, it's finally starting to get away from me. Constantly waking up alone, no one to really talk to when shit starts churning, no one to come home to, or be there for...hopeless romanticism is a vile affliction to a person with all the love to give and not a soul to give it to.

The good news, is that I'm actively looking into getting help. CO is a wonderful place, and I'm beyond grateful they're more progressive in terms of social services for a those that need it.

Got a couple of sketches I did some time ago. I'll post em once I get home.

I should say, once I get my eval and medication setup, that comes first.

The only thing this pandemic has given me is a greater appreciation for suicide and a deeper hole for my depression to bury itself.

Nothing. Absolute fuck-all. Not a bonus, no hazard pay, lost hours, null recompense. A fucking pat on the back and a good job for risking my health and safety so people can drive worry free. And I'm not mad about the latter... .

Trust me, I'd love to sit and draw but I have to spend several moments of nondescript time trying not to bawl my damn eyes out, and to convince my overly analytical brain that killing itself is not a sol--...what I should do. And by the end of it I'm worn out.

I'm not looking for attention, I just need to vent into The Void cause my own voice isn't making much sense anymore.

Sorry to whomever sees this.

Drawing sucks, especially if you don't have a style your own and nothing comes out looking right.

I've also been in a uhhh, how do you say, "zero worth" funk. Which is to say, several unrelated things serendipitously came together in fucking my shit sideways, making me again feel inconsequential, and pretty much just draining me off any and all energy. Also work full time so there's that... .

No excuses though. If I'm gonna say I'll do something, I should do it.

*slow raspberries in the distance*

Im having a raffle! I did originally plan to do this last year but hey! Best of luck to everyone! This raffle will end on March 25th! (My birthday!!)

Extra information and transcript under the cut:

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I'm like a year late posting this, apologies; wonderful ref sheet and headshot from the increasingly talented @pupleash! Thank you again!

I greet The Void but The Void remains mostly quiet.

For those that have been following me for...whatever reason, hello. I may start using this account to post commissions I've gotten/done, as well as to try and make a "short" comic about my struggles with depression, and almost everything that has occurred between now (almost 30, ffs) and when I was about 16.

Do not expect much. This'll be an as-i-feel-like endeavor, so I can't make any promises. Also an excuse to practice drawing.