The view from rock bottom
TW: Mention of suicide & SA (not descriptive)
What people don't usually tell you at your absolute worst is that once you're there, things can only get better. And I mean your absolute worst. The ultimate fall, the craziest crash out, the most terrible of tragedies... There's nowhere to go but up.
2025-2026 have been the hardest years of my life. The dominos fell at such speed and inconsistency that I wondered if they'd ever stop. 3 out of 4 of my grandparents passed away. I got assaulted. I got blackmailed. My partner and I had major issues. I lost a few close friends. My antidepressants stopped working. I made horrible impulsive choices. I planned an attempt on my life and didn't go through with it, even though I had become serious enough about it that I was giving away my belongings (and money I didn't have). I'm still in major debt from that decision. But despite it all, I'm thankful that I stayed.
I wouldn't wish the way I felt (and still currently feel) on anyone. No one deserves to exist in a state of constant suffering. In a way, though, it's made me appreciate the small things even more. Living with depression is like having a grey lens over everything, but when something shines brightly, it is striking. A walk around the block can seem meaningless, but when you're walking around with your best friend and they count how many four-leaf clovers they can find, it's different. That little moment of bliss can almost be a reason for existing. Searching through the fog to find something, anything to bring meaning to all of the pain. Ice cream of even the most common flavour tastes like a lifeline when you're in 100 degree heat.
The reason I'm even writing this is as a reminder to you (and, myself, let's be honest lol) that it does get better. I know it sounds like total bullshit sometimes. Or even a lot of the time. But it's not. I'm still currently riding out a huge wave of what i like to jokingly refer to as "lore" or "character development" as we speak. The coast isn't clear yet, but I'm still trying to enjoy the little shells I find along the shore of the tumultuous sea. Just because you can't see the end of the rain doesn't mean it isn't there, and it also doesn't mean you have to stand alone. Don't be afraid to reach out to someone you love. If you don't know if you have anyone, you can drop me an email at chickenharpyvt@gmail.com . I'll get back to you. It doesn't matter if I know you or not.
I'll end this with an excerpt I wrote in my journal a few days ago. I wrote a letter to myself in the third person to try and calm down when I was spiraling. Maybe it could help you too?
September 5, 2026. Night. You shall live to see another day. Is the burning rash upon your calves not proof enough that healing is to come? Is the gentle singe upon your shoulders not enough to show you that freckled galaxies can be made from pain? Are the blisters and callouses upon your feet not enough to show that journeys build resilience? Every time tragedy struck, you've kept trudging, my love. Is it not the same for this time? Do you truly believe that excess preparation for failure will thwart fate? It is as it is meant to be. You must release control. If it is meant to be, it will be. There is nothing more you can do but breathe and absorb the sensory as it exists around you. You can't rearrange the planets, my love, they are in fated orbit. Balanced! Keep flying and burning, my star. The clouds shall clear when they are ready to trek forward. For now, just look up. Taste the tea upon your lips. Enjoy the damp air and droplets upon your skin. I love you.