March 2020

I've been struggling with serious depression for the majority of my adult life, and the past eleven months have been especially bad. I had a several week period of barely sleeping/insomnia that indirectly led me to losing two jobs, and most of 2020 has been me fighting despair to a draw just enough to just try and look for work. Meanwhile while watching all of my savings completely dry up.

In three weeks I might not even be able to afford my apartment anymore. And the way rents have skyrocketed in Toronto, combined with my screwed up mental state, I have no idea in that scenario when or how I could ever find a new, reasonably affordable place. When I finally scored a pretty solid job just a week ago, my fears were somewhat lifted: maybe here at the brink of total catastrophe things had at last turned a corner for me.

Now with concerts, sports leagues and many other large gatherings being cancelled or postponed because of the Coronavirus, I'm likely looking at no work shifts anywhere, of any kind, in the immediate future.

It's obviously important to contain this stupid fucking thing as best we can, to protect those most vulnerable, so I agree these precautions are necessary. It's just that..... they might probably have completely fucked my life and I was already in a pretty bad fucking place. Is feeling that way somewhat selfish? No shit. But I can care about other people not getting sick, while also be incredibly concerned about how this affects me at the same time.

All I'm saying is... I've been pushing a rock up a hill here for a really long time. Too long. And to finally be given some hope, then to have it snatched away again so quickly... I'm ready to just give up. You beat me. You win.