Page 2: Maimed by Malady
“Depression’s darkened my days. Death infects my thoughts daily. I’m in a fragile state. The bleakness, the blackness, I feel it running through my veins, I feel it trickling through my brain. My mind’s magnetised to write in malignant ink. My soul’s never felt so empty.”
Maimed by Malady
Page 2 - December 2017
My disease dominates my days. It causes a cruel collection of life-changing symptoms from indescribable fatigue to bone-deep discomfort, brain problems, deep depression and many other afflictions. For some, it’s paralysing. It’s damaged my mind and destroyed the life I once lived.
I’ve tried to find the best way to adapt to circumstance, to find a way forward with writing. I’ve tried to weave the fine threads of fictional characters into ever-evolving, intriguing, thought-provoking stories. I’ve failed, countless times. It’s not that my imagination hasn’t been enough, it’s that my brain’s become too maimed. I can’t recall memories fast enough, and recently, the darkness has become too much. I know, every story needs a little adversity, even Disney has its villains, its own specially formulated, slightly softer shade of darkness. But this, this is too much. Depression’s darkened my days. Death infects my thoughts daily. I’m in a fragile state. The bleakness, the blackness, I feel it running through my veins, I feel it trickling through my brain. My mind’s magnetised to write in malignant ink. My soul’s never felt so empty. Now is not the time to be focusing on fiction, now’s the time to make a change.
I’ve failed, not just within my words, but within every major aspect of my life. Love, health, wealth and happiness. Sure, this malady turns simple tasks into tests, it causes weakness, encourages bleakness, but I must hold myself accountable for my thoughts, my beliefs, actions and inaction. I’ve failed, but I still have choice, the choice to choose how I define failure. Failure can either strengthen us or weaken us. It can be perceived as defeat, a lesson, or a stepping stone to success, but the choice is always ours. Once again, I have to choose. I have to adapt. I have to redefine my world, be a better man and live the story I need to read. I don’t know how this story ends, but this is how it began…
Thank you for reading.
With warmth,
Davey