And now to try and summarize myself without sounding completely fictional. Content warnings for intense medical drama.

Last year I:
- discovered I had a 6cm wide meningioma in my head and was lucky to be alive
- survived major brain surgery
- was left in a drug-induced delirium for a week begging for help as I hallucinated all my worst fears
- lost my mind
- spent the rest of the year being promised professional psychiatric help to recover only to have it repeatedly fall through
- suppressed everything so I could move to Melbourne where could actually afford a livable place to rent and recover

I'd be lying if I said I'm okay. I am seeing a psychiatrist every week to learn emotional regulation and EMDR to process what I went through and be able to move on.

I know I have a bright future ahead of me, now having my brain restored to it's pre-meningioma state when I was at the height of my professional career, plus the last five years of discovering so much about myself, who I really am and how to be truly happy. And now I've made it to an amazing city where I can pursue my career and enjoy a much more vibrant queer community and creative life. For the first time in a decade I can stop endlessly struggling to survive, and actually start to live. If I can just recover from what I went through.

I'm trying to be hopeful, knowing I will recover in time, and trying not to lose ground to depression and stay the course. But it isn't always easy, and some days are worse than others.