Juxtaposition.

So, because AMBER NASH SHOW is playing really well to XPT's sold-out crowds and the parking lot pieces in XPT AUTO SHOW are fantastic and bring a level of fun and enthusiasm to the audience and to the puppeteers performing them before the show even starts, I've been feeling good about life and mostly satisfied with the work I've done. (My puppeteers and performers, though, are all brilliant and supportive, and I will love them forever for the gift that they have given me this week.)

As something bad must happen to accompany all the good, just to remind me that there are moments when I can feel like a complete failure, I'm being kicked out of my apartment for being packrat messy and for not reporting a problem with mold in the apartment. They had to rip out a wall of my bedroom, and now they've given me seven days to vacate the place.

So, because I'm an adult now, I have a plan. I'm running home to live with my mom for a couple weeks and finding a storage facility to put my stuff. Then, in the next couple of weeks, I'm moving into an apartment with my friend James. (Start praying for him now.)

I'm going to be OK. I'm just freaked the fuck out right now.

I want to get past the worry and the panic and all the bullshit and just deal with the problem, but that's the thing with depression. It causes you to not be able to bring yourself to move, clean, take out the garbage, do the dishes, stay inside the apartment. Depression causes me to not like myself enough to take care of myself, to instead escape into the things in my life that are working, escaping the responsibilities of life that aren't as fun, paying bills, cleaning the apartment, etc.

I'm crazy. I have mental illness. I've got to fix some things. I've been trying to fix them for 30 years, but when are they going to be fixed?

This is a journey. I'm going to try not to worry about it. I'm going to instead fix it.

I have to, eventually. I don't have a choice.