How I Came to My Senses at 36
I turned 36 on March 23rd. Before that, for about 2.5 months, I was in the deepest depression I think I’ve ever experienced. It wasn’t particularly dramatic, it wasn’t even chaotic or violent. It was very quiet, the darkness creeping over the ground like fog, wrapping its sticky tendrils around me and dragging me under the water’s surface. And yes, I was drowning, flailing, begging for help. I almost failed the first class of the Spring Semester, and I did fail the second class. My heart wasn’t in it, I was questioning my existence, I was deep diving into the apathetic annals of cosmic horror. I was having more episodes, talking to myself more—and worse, something was answering. I got too deeply enmeshed in what I was trying to create that I lost all focus of what truly mattered. It wasn’t the science that backed the theories, it was literally just needing to get back to my gothic horror roots. But I’ve put those stories on pause for now. I’m not comfortable writing horror at the moment. I need to treat myself with care and love.
It wasn’t actually aging that made this change. It was a new therapy I started not too long after my birthday. I won’t be going into details. Just know that it has put a lot of things in perspective, and has helped me immensely to regulate my emotions. Because of this therapy, I have been able look at my life more clearly, and see exactly where I have done things wrong. I am torn between excitement at knowing more about myself, and sadness for the fact that I’ve come to these realizations far too late.
My children are older now, my oldest is 17. Is it too late to properly bring rhythm and nature to him? My youngest is as unwilling to cooperate with my antics at this point. I honestly think he’s just waiting until he is legally allowed to move out. Which saddens me, but I totally understand. I’d like to think we have a good relationship, but he’s rather… quiet about things. Which is fine, I just wish I knew more. He’ll come around in his own time, I hope.
A lot of things have changed recently. I had been so deeply into the horror community that when I pulled myself out of my anger and pain, I had no idea what to do with myself. I had chosen to dedicate my life to illustrating comics. I had been working on my Magnum Opus, the piece that would put me on the map. But it no longer felt… right. The call to paint woke up this inner being filled with so much creative energy. I’m bursting at the seams with ideas and concepts and thoughts.
And that’s why I’m here. I want to share my journey with you. Perhaps this is my “midlife crisis”, where I completely change my image and vibe and goals. Maybe this journey will finally lead me to fulfillment. I just hope I grow.
How about you? Have you experienced any sudden shifts recently? Or perhaps it’s been a long time coming, and it’s finally starting to show? Please, leave a comment and join the conversation.
xx
Daemon