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October 19, 2023

The other night, I got home from a very long day at work, called sanguine, and cried. Absolutely bawling. Screaming and wailing. Kind of thing I probably haven't done since I was a child. I felt so incredibly trapped at this job, like I could see so clearly how exploited I was and felt like any rebellion would just destroy my life and bring down the full anger of the state.

That was the trade-off of my perception: I saw the depths of my subjugation clearly, but all reasons for hope had been hidden. I started back on smaller doses of my psych meds; maybe they will make me less acutely aware of my situation, and paradoxically more capable of fighting it.

There's this bias I have, I think, in thinking that medication takes me away from reality, like I'm not fully present for life's hardest lessons. I think that those negative emotions are a way I connect with reality which is valuable in a sense, but they are also totalizing, and sever me from spheres of hope, escape, or beauty which are just as real.

In that deep low point, I look back and see the slain bison on X of swords. The "melodrama" qualifier inspired the above reflection; the feelings were very real, empirically derived, even, but based on a limited, fixated perspective.

There are other recent happenings which I think develop that 10/9 spread even more, but even on this anonymous platform I'm nervous to share them. I'll consult with some IRL friends about how they may fit in.