The Biggest Hole I've Seen in a Long Time (+ Life / Red Updates)
Over the last few weeks, I have received a lot of messages asking how I’m doing and if Red is going to update soon.
Up until this point, my answers have been somewhat vague, and that’s mostly because I’ve been struggling to figure out how to talk about what’s been going on in my life.
I am aware that I am not obligated to share every single detail of my private life. But I also don’t want to hide behind the phrase “health issues” because I care about all of you, who have invested your time, energy, and love into supporting this story as well as myself, so I want to be transparent with you.
At the beginning of April, a close family member experienced a serious mental health crisis that led to hospitalization. I was with them every step of the way, only going home to sleep for about three hours each night, then going back to the hospital.
It was scary and stressful, and two days after they left for inpatient care, I got the flu from being exposed while I was at the hospital. Since I have anemia, the recovery process ended up taking a lot longer than I thought.
Now, this next part might be a little TMI, so feel free to skip if you want.
On April 17th, I had a cyst rupture on my left ovary. I’ve been getting regular scans for the last year, so that wasn’t exactly a surprise.
Those of you who are aware of the abominable state of women’s health care probably already know that unless a cyst is causing a dangerous hemorrhage, the response you will usually receive in the ER is “there’s nothing we can do.”
Basically, you have to wait for the fluid from the burst cyst to reabsorb. Since this was not my first rupture, I knew that going to the ER would be a waste of time, so I had to ride it out at home.
I was bedridden for two days, and it took about a week for the pelvic discomfort to go away.
Fast forward to May 4th. I had a wisdom tooth removed. It was just one, and it was already partially erupted, so my surgeon and I agreed that sedation wasn’t necessary.
The removal was intense (for about five minutes I was really questioning my life choices lol), but it went by pretty fast.
Then, two days after the removal, I got sick with a cold.
Seven days after the removal, on May 11th, which is my birthday, I woke up in severe pain.
Turned out that despite following all post-op instructions to the letter (including sleeping practically sitting up on a wedge pillow, which was so damn uncomfortable, I don’t know how anyone does it), I developed a severe dry socket.
To quote my oral surgeon: “I don’t mean to make you feel bad, but that is the biggest hole I’ve seen in a long time.”
I spent the next week in and out of the surgeon’s office having dressings applied to the socket and eating Tylenol like tic-tacs.
May 14th, I went to see a new gynecologist because I’ve been dealing with painful ovarian cysts, worsening periods, irregular bleeding, and digestive issues.
After an ultrasound, the gynecologist told me that she suspects I have endometriosis. She thinks I’ve had it all my life and that “no one noticed” despite years of doctors’ appointments concerning these exact same symptoms.
May 29th, I pulled a groin muscle (somehow) after a very moderate workout, and the injury did not respond to traditional pain relief methods or muscle relaxers.
I could not walk comfortably, I could not sit comfortably, and even lying down in bed offered little relief.
June 20th, my close family member experienced another mental health crisis and went back into inpatient care.
Finally, my brain and body seemed to hit their limit.
Now, I was diagnosed with panic disorder in the past, but I hadn’t experienced an actual panic attack since my brother passed away almost three years ago.
But I could feel myself edging up into panic attack territory one night, so I took my emergency medication, and all of the physical pain that I’d been enduring suddenly disappeared.
So, I made another appointment with my GP, who sat me down and said that she believed my nervous system was shot. It was too much physical and mental stress in too short a period of time, and she was honestly shocked that I’d made it as long as I had without having a panic attack.
Nor was she surprised to hear that the physical pain from the groin injury disappeared when I took my anxiety medication because sometimes mental stress manifests itself as physical pain.
This is not to say that the physical pain isn’t real, but mental stress can certainly exacerbate things (which, I probably should have remembered from two previous stints in physical therapy for cervical issues, but I just wasn’t thinking straight).
Now, under my doctor’s guidance, I’m back on my anti-anxiety medication twice a day temporarily to get my nervous system to calm down while I wait on a referral to see a pelvic floor PT.
It’s definitely not the outcome that I was hoping for, and I’m not sharing all this because I feel like I owe anyone my medical history or because I need to prove that I have a good enough reason for what I’m about to tell you.
I’m sharing because I know how incredibly isolating it can be when your body and mind start reacting to prolonged stress in ways that you cannot understand or control.
Sometimes it makes you feel weak. Sometimes it makes you feel crazy. Sometimes it makes you feel depressed.
And sometimes it makes you angry because you aren’t able to do the things that used to come so naturally to you.
For weeks, I’d been cycling through all of those. Over and over.
It was especially frustrating because I wanted to work on Red.
That fic is my baby. I started working on it way back, on May 20th of 2023. I spent a year working on it off and on before I even got the courage to start posting it on May 17th, 2024.
It’s now July 16th, 2026, which means I have been working on this fic for THREE YEARS.
Since that time, I have written 333,392 words, and I have poured everything I have into this story.
I have kept at it through all sorts of ups and downs and chaotic life events.
I kept at it even though my grandfather, my brother, and my grandmother all died within thirteen months as I was writing.
I have kept at it and kept at it and kept at it.
But lately, with everything spiraling out of control in my life, I started feeling like I did not want to write anymore.
Which was absolutely devastating. Because writing is what I do. It’s what I do. It’s one of the deepest, most enduring parts of who I am. I’d even go so far as to say that it’s my purpose.
So, that feeling of not wanting to write? Yeah, it scared the hell out of me.
One of the things that I have discovered for myself over the years is that once I start to give ground, to relinquish the shape and structure of my life to those negative thoughts and feelings, it opens the door for even more negativity.
And I refuse to give that piece of myself up. I won’t give up writing.
That being said, Red is a 333k beast and is approaching what I believe will be the final major arc (don’t quote me; sometimes the characters have their own ideas) of the story, and many of the plot threads that I have set up will now need to start paying off.
But when I sat down to work on it (when I could sit down at any rate), I literally could not hold all 333k worth of story threads in my mind. I just don’t have the mental bandwidth right now, and I don’t want to brute-force my way through it just to produce some lackluster, half-assed piece of writing. You all deserve better than that.
So, for the time being, Red is officially on hiatus.
The story is not abandoned. Like I said, this thing is my baby. I’ve been working on it for three years, and I intend to finish it.
Side Note: Did y’all hear that Banana Fish, one of Red’s biggest inspirations, is finally getting an English dub in August?
I am beyond excited, and you better believe that I’ll be feeding all that inspiration directly into my veins to bring you the best update when Red finally returns.
I just can’t give you a direct answer as to when that will be.
Right now, I am working on some smaller, more contained private projects that I am not ready to share publicly yet.
This might sound a bit contradictory from the outside, but different projects require different amounts of creative energy.
And sometimes, it’s the little things that pull you through the most difficult times, building you up and propelling you back to where you need to be.
So, to those of you out there with tired minds and bodies, who are struggling with your own creativity—it’s not lazy or dishonest to invest what little energy you do have into smaller creations while other parts of your life seem determined to suck you dry.
Find joy anywhere and everywhere you can and seize it.
The people who love, care, and support you and your work will be there when you get back.
Just as, Dear Reader, I hope you will be there waiting for me.
Thank you for reading my story, for leaving me such wonderful comments, thank you for making art, for reaching out to me on social media, and for every hit and click of that kudos button.
Thank you to all the silent readers. If you felt too shy to write a comment, that’s okay! (Though I promise I won't bite) The fact that you took the time to read a bunch of words I cobbled together is enough.
Thank you to those of you who sent kind messages to check on me.
Thank you to the Friday Night TGCF Audio Drama/Book Club. Spending a few hours together at the end of every long week keeps me sane. I love all of you.
And a BIG, HUGE, MASSIVE THANK YOU to EchoandtheVaskians, writer and podfic-extraordinaire. Your friendship has been such a balm, and I feel so lucky to be able to work with you.
Words cannot express, but damn it, I am trying.
And I hope that I’ll have some good news to share with you soon.
In the meantime, please take care of yourselves, and in the words of someone who is far older and wiser and has seen considerably more shit than I have, just remember:
“What matters is you, not the state of you.”
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