I find it difficult to reach out to people, especially so publicly, but this shit is getting out of hand, and I need to let it out.

Tonight I couldn't sleep because I've lost some sensitivity in my left arm. You know how you get the numbness in your arm in the morning when you sleep on it at night? Except I haven't: it just started to go off slowly, fully functional but clearly numb in places. Tonight's different because in addition to my arm, like the last time, several other parts of my body express the same symptom: my right foot and my right shoulder. It's one of the most terrifying things I've experienced in a long time.

I think stress is finally getting to me.

I'm pretty sure it's stress because I'm an otherwise-healthy young male with no history of chronic disease – or susceptability to common ones, even – with a stable diet and lifestyle. I haven't had significant changes in my routines or preferences for a long time, except for the fact that I started walking more. I haven't been outside the city, let alone the country, for almost a year.

The only major thing that's changed is my living situation.

I've been trying to make it as an independent creator – writer, developer, designer, modder – for a year now, maybe two. I've been working on several projects publicly and a lot more privately: mostly writing, some development, my website included. It hasn't been arduous but has been very long without much result to speak of. I haven't been marketing myself a whole lot, and frankly, there isn't much to show aside from a lot of peripheral talk (like the production logs of the website or Mythos).

I live alone in a small studio owned by my parents. They also afford me a small weekly fund of about $27, for just about $110/mo.. Even in Russia, where I live, that isn't a lot of money – you get to buy just about enough food for a month, and that's it – but I get it for existing, so I don't complain. On the surface, it's a stable and excellent arrangement that I should be nothing but grateful for.

Last week, I made an error in telling my parents it might be a good idea to sell the studio and use the funds to move to a bigger city and let myself live off them while I develop my non-career career path (they've made it clear with anything but a written statement this studio is meant to be for me, and the ownership is but a formality to avoid paying more taxes). My mother lashed out at me: how stupid of an idea it was to rent when I have a perfectly-good apartment, and where would I end up when I eventually spend everything down to the last dime... I don't remember the rest of it 'cause I tuned it out, for the sake of my emotional stability at the time.

I haven't told them about what I'm trying to accomplish here: they think I'm looking for a site designer position. I haven't told them a lot of things: about my depression, about my anxiety, about what I like, what I want, what I need... I wouldn't want them to know 'cause I already feel trapped in their influence on my life. They've been helicopter-parenting my whole life, and every time I tried to gain that much autonomy and freedom, I've been met with resistance, and blame, and "what will people think of you", and even fake tears. There's no dialogue to be had, and the energy it takes to make any kind of meaningful progress is the energy I don't have.

So, I've been trying quietly to make it on my own.

I've been using depression-induced mood swings to maintain some degree of order in my life, but recently it's become impossible. My apartment is a mess, and I keep up only what I immediately need; even that takes a lot. I had a brief few days of victory recently when I push through sleeping later and later until I started waking up very early, when I feel most energetic and positive – and even that eventually washed away. It's a good day when I'm able to get one thing done. The rest of them I weather out as best I can, including spending much more on comfort food (and gaining proportional weight) than I should. It also usually involves a lot of gaming and mindless watching of Internet videos, for what seems to me obvious reasons.

I've been through periods like these before, but they've never felt quite so hopeless. I need to make money to get the freedom I need, which I can't do because I barely have the energy, which is because I can barely afford to live through the week with the vices that keep me steady, which I need because I don't have the freedom I need...

I'm not lazy. I can work long days. I have been working long days on projects that promised some degree of "more freedom". Back when I thought Intergrid would be my saving grace, I'd work studiously to make it happen by a set deadline. Earlier still, I'd work for $80/mo. on a website redesign that didn't go through. (It was for a friend, and what may be a quarter of rent for you had been almost double my monthly allowance, and it was perfectly enough 'cause I was enjoying the work.) I don't waste my days on senseless entertainment if I can help it: I have several projects I'm working on when I can, that I enjoy doing and would do for free if I had a financial base otherwise.

So why not find a job?

The jobs I did hold previously – a couple of days each – gave me no hope for finding something locally. I live in a semi-rural region of Russia where modern job opportunities aren't very present. People here work hard physically but not intellectually. (First-world problems, I know, but at this stage I can't afford to waste what little energy I have.) Jobs elsewhere? I don't think I'd cut it. For all my experimentation and trying things out and showing bits and pieces here and there, I don't have a portfolio worth a damn, and the last time I tried making one felt like grinding my teeth on a metal rail. That $80/mo. job I had, I had because I mentioned to a friend that I could take that thing he wanted to do for him, and he said "Yeah, okay, you've been talking a lot about web design so far, handle it for me". I don't think someone who doesn't know me would be that trusting.

So it feels like doing something I enjoy – which doesn't take away what little energy I have – is the only way for me, at least at the moment. Make enough to be able to move out to most places in Russia and not have to worry about food and the roof over my shoulder.

What I'm going to try is stick to a schedule. I prefer to take my time, work out the kinks and iron out the bugs before publishing something. Given the circumstances, however, it may be time to employ some mental tools. I've heard advice before about publishing a story, or a sketch, or an episode of the podcast every month, or ever week, as long as it's on rails. Good story? Bad story? It goes out. I have a few stories I want to tell, but I've been keeping 'em "unlisted" for a long time now, hoping to work it all out beforehand. Maybe rough as they are, I'm better off with them seeing the light of day. Like I said: I'm not lazy. I just need to find a way to make it work.

Hey gang!

So it has been a minute! I alluded to my plan to venture off into the woods in prior posts but didn't go into too much detail. Any who, I'm back but not on my own accord.

The reason I ask this question is because it just happened to me. I've struggled with depression and anxiety for going on 15 years, I've talked to a lot of people about it, gotten help, and received a lot of support over the years. I have never had it blow back in my face like it just did. Super long story kind of short:

• I want to offer some context here, that not more than a week prior, my organization had a "getting vulnerable" meeting whereby we were asked (but not required) to share some information about ourselves with our crews. Crews worked and lived together in remote back country settings for months at a time, to be honest it went pretty well. I did not open up too much at the time as I had just met everybody, but eventually I got more comfortable.
• I told the wrong person at my work, my direct supervisor (I was in no danger at any point during my employment, this information was given in a contextual fashion. Because we work so closely together for weeks at a time and also live together, these types of things tend to come out.)
• They told the wrong people (management).
• I was talked to for 5 hours in a closed door meeting with the top brass of the organization (read: interrogated and asked to give a comprehensive psychological background, even though I had already given them a topical briefing during the hiring process.)
• I was pulled out of the field for liability reasons (I openly objected to this, saying that said field was best for my mental health.)
• I was placed on an "in-town" crew that I did not want to join (I openly objected to this as well.)
• I tried to exist on the new crew, but found it immediately and chronically untenable. My new coworkers were OK people, but the stark contrast in personalities between my old and new crew was jarring. Given our line and nature of work, this is super important and there's no way top brass didn't know about this. I voiced this and once again requested to be placed back in the back country at a base camp, I was ignored.
• My mental health began to catch up to me. I did not like my position in life or at work, having to live in the city which is something I came out here to entirely avoid was crushing any and all morale I tried to work up.
• The writing was on the wall. I didn't like it there anymore, and my employer didn't seem to care (despite their claims) about where I was within the organization.
• I voluntarily resigned due to mental health reasons rather than just walk out. The urge to entirely burn this bridge and emphatically explain to them why what they did was so improper was incredibly strong, but I decided not to. This organization is a big name in our field and the field isn't all that big, they stated that I'd be welcome back, I'd sooner clean a peanut butter covered shag carpet with my tongue.

The general mood and sentiment during all of my conversations with staff members could be described as tense. The way in which I was treated during all of those meetings was as though I was a conglomeration of suicidal, homicidal and a direct threat to anybody near me. I could literally see their brains doing very careful dance numbers as they walked over what they thought were eggshells, when at no point was that the case in my view. Their actions, disguised as being motivated by empathy, came straight out of the Harvard Business School of Cover Your Ass. At one point they mentioned they had a psychologist on retainer that they were consulting. I have seen so many damn therapists, psychiatrists, psychologists, shrinks and every other name in the book over 15 years. I have never met one that would ever make any absolute statements or suggest any concrete actions before even meeting a patient. Their inability to even empathize with what I had been going through was apparent. At no point did they seem to consider the human in the room, it was always "we appreciate what you bring", "you are a good resource to have", and the worst of all "we hear you, but..." Holy fuck the lingering but was bad. "I'm not racist, but...", dude sit the fuck down.

So that happened within a week or so. There's quite a few more details but I don't want to make the entire point of this post to rant (even though that's what it has turned into.) I am now jobless, homeless as housing was through my work, in an entirely new city to me and floating on savings. It's not too bad to be honest. This is not my first homeless (hobo, vagabond, rubber tramp) experience/adventure, I'm not financially comfortable (I'm on borrowed time) but I'm not broke and honestly I'm in a good place mentally. I've been camping in the woods and I've got everything I need to survive. I'm even super involved in a local activist group, if that's any testament to how comfortable I've become in my current position.

So, does this sound familiar to anybody here? Have you been discriminated against in this fashion? How'd you react? Cope? Where did you go from there? I'd like to hear from others to simply know I'm not alone in this bullshit. I've been in support groups for mental health, and other reasons, but I've never realized the need for this subset of people to seek support. It's been 10 days now and I'm honestly still in shock.

Feel free to get as vulnerable as you want, I won't tell your fucking inept boss.