I was hospitalised only what seems a few weeks ago, I prefer not to say why but it was very dire. I have experienced too many things to even begin to write about them. Mania, psychosis, alternate states of reality, things that are scary and will take hundreds more years of study to decipher.
No. More than 'study'. Listening to the stories of people who have experienced such things. The blogs, the art, the screams and the ecstasy.
Rubble and Rust was something I started when Psychosis meant something different to me. It's changed now, but the story still is true to how I felt those few months in 2020 when I was healing from a major, admittedly destructive, 'psychosis'.
I believe Psychosis is more than it seems, and is not pure evil as many would say. Because I've experienced beautifully unreal and know that such strange state of being is shunned by society.
My 'psychosis' and 'mania' have showed an ugly side to people for a long time. It's been around two very hard years. People could call me erratic, scary, rude, all manner of things. I know I am kind, passionate and a good person.
I've made a fool of myself, being very erratic and foolish during all the times I've been hospitalised or in a ward. I messaged people irresponsibly, posted recklessly and worse. These actions will haunt me maybe for life, because that is the sort of thinker I am. Of course, other people would say 'move on, be positive'. So maybe I can start to think that way?
I know it seems like I posted a lot to WordPress, but actually I spam posted a bunch of old drafts when I was in a mood. So besides the one before this, the last 4 or 5 were hesitant things I just pressed 'publish' on. I still gained followers somehow.
I naturally get anxious about what people might think of my work. Calling it rejection sensitivity and claiming people have a label to be fixed is dehumanising. This is the same with the label of psychosis, something that was a shamanic journey through darkness for me.
The reason it's important to me is people think it's no big deal. They only see someone in the ward being wacky. They don't understand this inner journey and anguish, soul shattering hallucinations and delusions that harm for years to come. :(
But it all starts by trying to heal, by trying to be myself. Rubble and Rust was a sanctuary where I began to enjoy creating again, after a period of intense pain.
I don't get why storytelling has to be this angsty process of hoping people get the damn fucking themes in your story. When you slave away for about a year trying to convey something unusual but heartwarming. Whatever. It's been a process of finicky editing in Visual Studio Code and refreshing Ren'Py and agony hoping it flows and reads well, and of course a whole lotta love goes into it.
The ending of Rubble and Rust is still in process, that is where I try to wrap up some of my perceptions of psychosis. I don't think It'll come close to what I've experienced, it is simply a fictionalised account from a soul trying to share their story.
Rubble and Rust is mostly a slice-of-life for the first part, I don't get into the horror until the second part. I hope some people will enjoy it.