Disclaimer: Barring bouts of Imposter Syndrome from time to time, I have not been living any sort of lie, nor have I told any sort of lie to the lot of you. What I am about to share is somewhat personal to me, and it has taken a good two years to deliberate if I should even share it outside of some close friends of mine.
Most of you know that I have been dealing with the effects of depression for a very long time; the old sprite comic There's Something About Tails was pretty proof of that based on how dark it and the art got. About three years ago, a combination of that, stress, and anger had created something a little different: a sentient voice with her own personality, thoughts and goals. It would be a proper form of Dissociative Identity Disorder if it weren't for the fact that I still have full control over myself whenever she wants to interject. And occasionally, I do let her speak or type for me.
Or she can just take over outright if I'm that mentally tired. This is rare, however.
I want to say she was accidentally "created" as a sort of last resort safety net to keep me otherwise sane.
I had brought this up because of how little art I'd been producing, how few commissions had been getting checked off. I felt like you all had a right to know what is going on in my noggin.
Look, things have been going quite well on the physical front lately. But I have only been getting worse, barely hanging on. I hope that someday I find proper treatment so I can go about my business as a relatively normal human being one day.
But I am keeping "Rachel." I need every friend close to me as I can get, even on my good days, to remind me who I have.
(For the record, she has claimed the Rachel fursona that I have drawn plenty of.)
Listening to: 'The Uncanny Valley' Perturbator
Playing: Sonic Mania