My intention with this blog was always to have a polished forum where I could talk about art (be it literature, film, music, etc.). But I can feel it transforming into something else as well. As someone who is neurodivergent, talking about my struggles with depression, anxiety, and PTSD is incredibly liberating.
And I’m not okay right now. I am the very definition of not okay. My work environment is incredibly toxic right now, and today I’m going to have to deal with something that even thinking about fills me with dread so thick I can taste it, like bile, creeping up to choke me. I’m not even sure I’ll be employed by the end of the day. There is only so much one person can withstand, and I’m at my limit.
This post isn’t going to have a tidy resolution. One day, I’m just going to start screaming and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.
Take care of yourself, friends. If you can help it, refuse to swallow the shit people throw at you. That’s all for now.
Thanks as always for being a faithful reader of The Voracious Bibliophile. If you like what you see, please follow, like, comment, and subscribe to my email list to get notified of new posts as soon as they drop. You can also email me at firstname.lastname@example.org or catch me on Twitter @voraciousbiblog. Keep reading the world, one page (or pixel) at a time.