I’ve started another reread of Down To Agincourt.
In June of 2014 I crashed from a manic episode. Saying I was depressed is ridiculous because I was so beyond that. Everything was a meaningless fog of pain. I had trouble understanding words, reading was difficult. Was I suicidal? Sure, in the sense that I couldn’t understand why I existed, it didn’t make sense. And then one day I checked my email.
I don’t know why I did. Like I said, I had trouble reading and everything was meaningless. So why did I check my email? Anyway, I did and there was a notification that Seperis had posted a few chapters of a Supernatural fic. So I read it. It was difficult, I had to keep going back and reading parts over. I read the few chapters again. And then again. And again. When she posted the next chapter I read it, and it was easier. And waiting for new chapters each week gave time a bit more meaning.
I was also getting therapy and medication. I had loved ones helping. Eventually things gained color and definition again. DtoA was like a little fire I carried while walking through the fog towards lights of a town. Or something, let’s not get caught up in a metaphor.
Things in my head get better, and worse, and then better again etc. It’s just how I am. And sometimes I reread Down To Agincourt. And I remember that getting up is how I start again everyday.
And it takes forever for them to kiss every time.
