“Tap in the code, I’ll reach you below”

I’ve been wandering in the underworld for the past eight days. It’s a far too easy place to become lost in. Full of shadows and empty of hope, it’s quite joyless and draining. It is, however, sometimes necessary to travel through to accomplish our goals. I should have at least heeded Poe‘s wisdom and remembered that “No one should brave the underworld alone.”
The arduous trials of gaining employment have frustrated me for a long time and have reached a peak that has left me in what has seemed a hopeless state. While still striving to accomplish my goal, I gave in to quite a potent depression. Failure after sincere and prolonged effort is the most devastating kind, because it does not seem to be a learning experience of the same type that a failure brought about by lack of effort or commitment. I question and alter my techniques regularly, and am always hoping that I’ll find the right combination. I’ve not yet succeeded, obviously.
I took myself into hiding for a while, limiting communication and focusing my productive time mostly on my hunt. This only compounded my frustration by giving me little outlet to express and release it. The depression became cyclical, each day building up.
A few sacred lights helped guide me to the surface. Art and friendships were, as always, the beacons that came to me. Like gifts from the Greek god of my namesake, Apollo, each helped illuminate points of reason and healing I could follow.
The work of art which gave me the most inspiration to reemerge from the underworld was one which I was unable to directly experience. My dear friend Wanda currently has my copy of Mark Z. Danielewski’s House of Leaves, so I relied on memory of the stories, the companion book The Whalestoe Letters and Poe‘s sibling album Haunted. House of Leaves is a masterwork, imbued with layered meaning and triggers for personal exploration. Poe‘s work is healing and likewise conducive of growth. As works that focus on recognizing fears and facing them, they have helped me to regain the resolve to do the same with my own.
Several dear friends were welcome listeners and comforts near the end of my traversal of this depression. Friendships and a sense of community are the most powerful things we can surround ourselves with, and I berate myself when I lose sight of that. I’m endlessly grateful for true friends who are always helpful in times like this and forgiving of my absences from our channels of communication.
I’m mending my collection of brokenness in light now. I have hope and I’m seeking a sense of optimism that still eludes me. It’ll be a difficult path, but one I’m ready to return to and not stray from.

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