30 Years of Depression, 2 Years Later

The Ketamine Chronicles, Continued

Photo by Shot by Cerqueira on Unsplash

[Author’s Introduction: My entire adult life, I worked like hell to write something that mattered. More than a decade into — and at the apex of — my career, it still took six ketamine trips and 12 frenetic hours at a coffeehouse to pen my first (and only) signature piece.

So much has changed since that pivotal day, except for one thing: Every time I return to the keys, I’ve tried like hell to recapture that magic. And, every time, I’ve failed.

Two years later, this is the story of how that story changed my life, how my mental health’s endured, and a rumination on if I’m even capable of making something at that level ever again.]

Friends, loyal readers, jilted ex-lovers — and you, innocent stranger, mindlessly browsing for reading-list fodder from the comfort of your bed in Moldova — I have a big problem.

[Okay, you’re right: I have a few other big problems, but hey we’re just two sleeps from my next therapy sesh, so I’m putting a pin in the others for now. In the meantime, I promise I won’t mess with my personal mental health advent calendar that ticks off days till I can confidently scream, in cool, cautiously calibrated micro-glee: “I’m adequately healed, given where I started, how hard I tried, and how little…