Hey so I think I've been putting off saying anything because I didn't want to make it seem like a big deal (and on another level because I didn't want to acknowledge how long I've been radio silent here) but at this point I think it's only fair I say at least SOMETHING so that no one assumes I've just vanished off the face of the earth or put the comic on an official hiatus or something. The TLDR here is that I've done neither of those things, and that I'm still actively working on Ghostchaser every day! Just slowly. I'm working my hardest to get back on a roll but there are some obstacles I have to face. You can keep reading for a bit of an explanation as to what’s been going on with me, but all you need to know is that I’m still here and I’m still making this thing happen.
As I mentioned on my twitter I had to say goodbye to a pet I've had for a very long time last month, and while that was definitely a hard time for me, I thought I'd be back on my feet (and producing regular comic updates) in a week at the most. Needless to say that didn't happen.
I'm gonna come right out and say, depression is by far the worst bully I've ever faced, and like many of you I've been fighting with it for the biggest part of my life. Sometimes I’ll do better for a while, and then out of nowhere I'll do worse. I'm at a point in my life now when I think I'm on some kinda ultimately upward trend, which is great, but recovery is less like an escalator and more like. Hold on ‘cause I’m gonna get poetic real quick here. You know those really crappy pull ropes that ski hills put on the slopes they can't afford to install full lifts on, or maybe the slopes they just really wanna see some fools get wrecked on? The ones where you have to grab onto a splintery rope and let your entire winterclad body weight plus your recklessly meandering footspears — by some tongues known as skis— be dragged haphazardly up the hill, and then you spend the entirety of your ascent, which usually takes about 7 months, actively working to not leave your feet behind and wipe out, or veer too far to one side and wipe out, or get caught on a little bump and wipe out, or accidentally let go and roll up the approximately 30 school-aged children behind you in your katamari ball of snow and horror? And wipe out? Depression is like that, only without the option to just take off the damn skis and walk up the hill instead. I've been here long enough to know I’m stuck in my skis for good, and all I can do is keep getting on that crappy rope and trying again from the bottom until I get it right. Maybe I’ll never even reach the top, maybe I’ll spend the rest of my life locked in desperate combat with the worst ski hill attraction ever — but at least it’s better than sitting in the snow. Right now I’ve got a lot of things keeping me out of the snow, like my friends and family and pets. And if they’re the fence at the bottom of the slope that keeps me from straight up crashing into the parking lot, then Ghostchaser is the promise of hot chocolate and finally being able to feel my pinkies again. It’s that important to me. It keeps me going. It’s worth fighting for. Right now I’m still kind of fumbling pathetically with the rope about a quarter of the way up the hill, but I think I’m ready to take another shot. So with all the sincerity I can summon I want to say again that I am very sorry for being so sporadic with my updating schedule. It’s my biggest goal right now to get myself back on track with weekly pages, and I’ll do my best from now on to. You know. Actually let you know if anything changes (if you haven’t followed my Ghostchaser twitter yet, this might be a good excuse?). But thank you all so, so much — I mean on the one hand for putting up with the extended and perhaps embarrassingly Canadian stereotype-affirming ski hill metaphor — but also for believing in me, and for giving me something to believe in. I love this story and I think you will too. Thanks again for letting me share it with you, and remember to take care of yourselves out there.