Don’t mind me! Just another processy journal as I work some shit out. I don't expect people to read them. It just helps to write them.

I’m glad to say that a lot of what I complained about in my recent journal is much better. A few lucky breaks meant my finances are stabilized, and my sleep also seems to be improving. I still have a few issues with insomnia and restlessness, but a bunch of increased physical exercise and magnesium supplements have helped tremendously. I’m finally sleeping for more than three hours at a time, and my sleep schedule is much more consistent. If you have problems with insomnia or restless legs, I highly recommend exploring magnesium supplements, specifically magnesium glycinate and magnesium citrate. They may not work for everyone, but I see people raving about their effects more often than not.

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Another major aspect of bouncing back from the last decade has been going around and locking down all the accounts I abandoned when I was at my worst mental health. As part of a process where I’m tidying up my life and moving forward with a bunch of stuff, which I think will help address at least a bit of my depression, I bit a major bullet and recently logged back into my FaceBook account for the first time in at least seven years. I don’t have many memories between 2016 and 2019, which were the last few years I used it. I knew it would be bad, but it was far worse than I could have expected.

After reading through several of my posts, a tidal wave of despair washed over me. My God. I knew I’d gone insane, but was not aware of the true extent. As much of it has been set to private as possible. Once I download an archive of all my data (for some mysterious reason, I feel compelled to save a record of this period of time), I’ll permanently shut down the account completely.

Everyone, I’m so, so sorry for my behavior. I know I’ve said this before, but I feel compelled to say it again. It was a combination of a terrible drinking problem, raging PTSD, and a nightmarish stack of the worst psychiatric medications that I could have possibly been prescribed (max doses of adderall, wellbutrin, and ambien). I will never forgive the psychiatric hospital and several authority figures who should have stepped in and done something when I was obviously spiraling. God knows that I lost many, many friends, and I do not blame their decision. By the same token, I’m stunned that several people who *were* my friends during that time are *still* my friends today. I’m deeply grateful for everyone who stuck around. If you weren’t there and have only known the “me” of the last two or so years, then I am glad. That is the real me.

I’ll probably never completely grieve the awful embarrassment and shame of having put on such an awful, cringey public display in front of so many people. I may need to say this publicly a few more times before my mind will stop torturing me with profound regret. I think a majority of the reason I’m so skittish and anxious about using things like Discord or Telegram is the unconscious horror that I could make such a fool out of my myself again.

Sigh. Ah, well. It’ll get better. If I can heal this insomnia and anxiety, then I can probably heal the regret, too. Thank you, as always, for reading these, if you do. I know you’re here for the art, and I’ll be getting back to that as soon as possible. The more I can move past all this stuff (and get some consistent sleep!), the sooner I can unlock art again.