Tag: pts

Every Day Is A Challenge

Posted on by in Real Life

Mental health is an infinitely complex thing. With a variety of conditions that can affect someone and no-one’s experience being the same, it’s no wonder that so much about it remains a complete mystery to most of the population. What I talk about on this site and during any podcast episodes that I record, is a droplet in the ocean of what there is to know and understand within the scope of mental health conditions and their impact on an individual. Something that I don’t think people realise when mental health conditions are discussed, is how they interact with one another. These conditions often come in groups, much like the unwanted +1 you didn’t realise your friend had dragged along to your party.

Between anxiety, depression and PTS, a bad mental health day for me can vary dramatically depending on which condition has decided to kick down the door and make my life a misery. The PTS can raise my anxiety levels, which leads to me cancelling plans, which results in a healthy dose of self-loathing for letting others down. It’s a negative feedback loop and it sucks, to be completely honest. However, I can’t avoid every potential trigger that could begin the loop again, otherwise I’d never be able to live my life. There are a variety of factors that can lead you to a bad day and often it’s simply a minor inconvenience that sets it all in motion once again.

I’m aware that the root of my problems is mostly to do with my own self-esteem and self-image, something that goes back to my childhood. However, it was only around the time I started this site that I recognised the core of my issues, and I was surprised to recognise that it wasn’t my social anxiety. When I started university, my anxiety attacks were at a point where I sought out medical assistance to help quell them, since I could barely leave the flat for an event without the need to vomit profusely afterwards (and not for the usual alcohol related reasons you’d expect of a university student!). Yet once I was on anti-anxiety medication, I stopped having panic attacks and instead fell into a deep depression, functioning only out of necessity. I’d treated a symptom, not the cause.

The last three weeks have been odd for me. Those that follow my YouTube would have read the description of my most recent video and would know that I’ve been in a depressive slump recently, but that slump has transitioned into a more bizarre phenomenon. I’ve spoken about dissociation on the site before, the out of body experiences and sensations that my actions aren’t entirely my own to control, but this feels… more than that. I feel disconnected from myself almost entirely, like I’ve become an actor in a play, going through the motions and acting out what the audience expects to see. I do my work, both from home and onsite, I play D&D with the gang and enjoy myself, I play and cuddle with the cats and I study the required material for my master’s degree. To an outside observer, I seem perfectly fine. Heck, to those close to me, it still looks normal. However, something about it feels off to those who would look more closely.

The best metaphor for it that I can think of would be if you went to an art gallery to see a famous painting, but someone had switched the original for a near perfect replica without letting anyone know. Sure, those keener on the artist’s work may notice something amiss or just have an inkling of confusion, but unless it was pointed out, chances are nobody would notice for a long time. I feel like that replica. Like someone had walked off with the original Caitlin and left me in place, forcing me to smile and converse with Caitlin’s family and friends, referencing conversations that I wasn’t a part of and events that are mere facts to me rather than the emotional milestones they supposedly were for others.

Theatre has always been a big part of my life, especially the backstage roles that go into a production. Show week is a fascinatingly complex thing, with dozens of moving parts mixing to make a show run smoothly. Knowing the cues, lighting changes, sound effects and props needed for every scene becomes almost instinctual as the week goes on. This dissociation feels like that. It feels like we’re on the third show of the week, having moved beyond opening night jitters and the first few live mistakes that you must compensate for. Everyone knows what they are supposed to be doing and it becomes another piece of choreography that every member of the company can perform flawlessly. Although perfect in the moment, in that specific scenario, to carry it over to the rest of the world and your daily life, it becomes paralysing in a way that you wouldn’t comprehend from the outside.

You know how they say some animals can sense things coming before we can? Like how cows sit down before the rain or how dogs can be trained to sense when a seizure is approaching, or someone’s blood sugar is dangerously low. I don’t know how common it is but some folks, me included, can sense when a panic attack is approaching or when a depressive episode will strike. Part of my experience with predicting these changes comes from my sensitivity to the world around me. I am hyperaware of changes around me, be that noise, visuals, or scents. On my more audio sensitive days, I can make out a dozen different conversations going on around me. I guess it means nobody can sneak up on me but it’s a bloody nightmare for my anxiety levels. I can predict when the days where it takes hours to claw myself out of bed are and know what level of physical contact I can tolerate during a particularly bad timeframe.

Part of me wants to remain in this state for the foreseeable future, something that the rest of me is too terrified to even consider. In this state I am productive, I am functional, I’m still socialising and interacting with those around me. It’s like looking in a slightly distorted mirror of what I am like on my good days, an almost perfect reflection that sets the alarm bells ringing in the back of your mind. I know that when this performance ends, I will have several very dark days. That fact is as certain to me as the rotation of the earth and the endless motion of the tides. It’s a foreboding feeling, to be staring darkness in the face as it barrels towards you, with only a wall of glass between you and the danger. Yet, I have to take down that wall or I will never be who I am, who I could be, who I want to be.

Life is hard. It requires surviving the bad days and thriving during the good ones. It’s terrifyingly isolating and a battle that you will never truly win – you merely survive from skirmish to skirmish until you are ready to meet defeat with open arms. It’s hard, back breaking work that you get no real reward for, no grand prize other than more time on the earth. Every second counts and sometimes you have to spend a month clawing your way out of the pit of despair to get an hour of joy. Yet, if you can forgive yourself when you fail, can pick yourself up when you fall down, and are willing to accept the smallest victories as a triumph over that lurking darkness, then it will all be worth it.

Still here,

CaitlinRC.

Depression – That Little Voice:

Posted on by in Real Life

TW – Depression and Suicide.

A young girl shuts the door on her friend with a big smile plastered across her face. As soon as the lock clicks into place, the smile vanishes and overwhelming sadness swims in her eyes. She slumps down, barely able to keep herself upright as sobs begin to wrack her body and tears spill down her cheeks. The camera pans away, the piano instrumental swelling to an emotional crescendo. This is what the films showcase depression as, a dramatic display of emotion and sorrow. Needless to say, that’s a load of bollocks.

Yes, this devastating mental health condition can manifest itself in full emotional breakdowns. Yes, there are some moments where I just want to cry in my room until the sun sinks below the horizon. However, it is so much more than that. It isn’t something that is magically fixed by falling in love with some handsome boy who wipes away your tears. There isn’t a “cure”. It isn’t something you can prevent just by “cheering up” or stopping being sad.

Let me explain a bit more. Depression is more than just feeling sad. It is more than the emotional breakdowns where you can do nothing but cry. It’s days where you don’t see the purpose of getting out of bed or doing anything productive, because what possible worth could you contribute to the world? It is moments where you feel guilty for taking time to yourself, where you feel that you aren’t good enough, that your work is terrible, that you are worthless.

Depression is a mood disorder, caused by an inbalance of neurotransmitters in your brain. A low level of serotonin, is associated with a low mood, lack of sleep, lack of appetite, interest in usually enjoyable activities and much more. There are many different factors that can influence whether you develop a mental illness such as depression – there’s a major genetic component. For example, there’s a big history of mental illness in my family, which significantly raised the risk of how likely it was for my sister and I to develop one.

I was officially diagnosed with anxiety and depression around three years ago. Around a year and a half later, I was given the additional diagnosis of PTS (Post Traumatic Stress). Despite all this, I’ve been experiencing symptoms of anxiety and depression for nearly seven years now. Looking back on my teenage years, those moments of anxiety and self-loathing weren’t just teen angst or exam stress. All these people would tell me to calm down, to relax, to stop beating myself up over every tiny mistake. I’d feel guilty for not being able to take their advice, for wallowing in self-pity and guilt.

Now, there are many different types of treatment for depression. These treatments are not a permanent fix for the mood disorder, they are merely ways to cope and manage the symptoms. I’ve tried Cognitive Behavioural Therapy to improve my self-esteem, counselling to try and process the traumatic events in my life, various self-help resources and ground techniques for when I get overstimulated and start to panic. However, therapy isn’t the answer for everyone. In my case, I need to take anti-depressants to keep my mood in check. I couldn’t focus on the therapy or the techniques that I was being taught because I just couldn’t see the point in it. I didn’t see a good reason for wasting my therapist’s time with my petty problems.

Throughout these years, I’ve had so many ups and downs that if you drew my journey on a map, it’d look like a mountain range that even the most ardent of explorers would dread to climb. Some of those downs have been a major dark pit that I didn’t think I’d get out of. I’ve struggled with my self-esteem, dealt with thoughts of whether I should end my own life. It’s terrifying. Genuinely terrifying. You feel like you’ve fallen so far down that nobody could ever find you to help pull you out. I was lucky enough to know an amazing guy at university, who would always make me laugh when I saw him at brunch. Despite me not being a “party” student, he still made an effort to include me and get to know me. Sadly, he lost his battle with depression and took his own life back in late 2018. I still miss him.

Mental health conditions are so much more than just “attitude” or “moodiness”, they are conditions that those who suffer from them will have to carry for the rest of their lives. It becomes a part of who you are, influences the decisions you make and the paths you choose to follow. I know for a fact that I’ve missed out on so many opportunities because I thought I wasn’t good enough or smart enough or worthy of that chance. Heck, even now I still don’t.

It’s ok to ask for help. One in four people will suffer from a mental health condition in their lifetime. You aren’t weird, you aren’t broken or wrong. You are deserving of love and support as much as the next person. Please remember that.

Look out for one another, be that hand in the darkness.

CaitlinRC.

Röki – Walking In A Winter Wonderland (With a troll):

Posted on by in Gaming

Back in October, which seems like it happened a decade ago, I was at EGX in London. After being lucky enough to get a Press Pass for the event, I spent quite a few hours scrolling through my emails, searching for games that I found interesting or ones that I thought deserved a little more love in the indie section. One such game was Röki, an adventure game that follows a young girl named Tove, who is trying to rescue her brother from the claws of the monster that kidnapped him.

In the short demo that I got to play, I was immediately immersed in a fairy-tale world. So, when the full version of the game was released on Steam a few days ago, I immediately threw myself into it. Over the course of a weekend, I completed each chapter of the story, trying my hardest to appreciate and discover every corner of my surroundings. Though I will say that spider is horrifying, I nearly threw my laptop across the room when I first saw it and the NOISES IT MADE WERE TERRIFYING OK.

Look at these gorgeous woods, it reminds me of the woods near where I was born.

Point and click adventures tend to be an experience of trial and error. For games with less well-thought out puzzles, it becomes a rage game, where you try combining anything and everything in a desperate attempt to progress the story. Röki, thankfully, has managed to avoid the puzzle pitfall. The puzzles were instinctive, cleverly interwoven into your interactions with the world. It didn’t feel like the plot was being held hostage until you finished collecting several shiny stones; it instead feels like a genuine obstacle standing between Tove and her brother.

From a technical standpoint, Röki is a masterpiece. Upon opening the game, you are greeted with sweeping vistas of a snowy mountain range. The forest stands out on the snowy background, managing to seem inviting and ominous at the same time. You’re greeted with icy lakes, towering trees, and crumbling castles – the likes of which we associate to the stories that we read to our kids at bedtime. These gorgeous landscapes are enhanced by the lighting engine that Röki implements. When you’re working with the sheer white snow of a mountain landscape like that of Tove’s home, it can be hard to make each explorable area unique enough to interest the player. In fact, arctic explorers must contend with a type of mirage, in which the snow makes it look like there is land on the horizon.

A lovely idyllic house, perfect for a fairy tale to take a dark turn.

Every aspect of Röki has an incredible amount of thought put into it, from the character designs, to the ambient sounds of the forest that you are exploring. The world of Röki is a living, breathing organism that deserves your utmost respect and from my time with the game, I am more than willing to give it that. Footprints will trail behind you in the snow, the wind blows through the trees, ravens will spook if you get too close. The birds sing and the trolls grumble as you walk past. It feels alive and bustling, yet you feel alone. Tove is on her own, in a world that she has only experienced in bed-time stories. Whenever I closed my eyes in Röki, every sound cue and background noise painted an elaborate picture of the world around Tove, a beautiful canvas forged through song.

Although beautiful, Röki is a remarkably dark game when you start to look below the surface. Littered across the forest are trolls that have been petrified by the sun, left frozen and alone until the end of time. A nearby church is filled with gravestones, that on closer inspection are those of children, taken at a young age and never recovered. A tortured soul who drowned in a lake now dwells there, dragging unfortunate souls to meet the same fate. Tove’s journey is not an easy one, it is more than a simple adventure to rescue her brother. It is about forgiveness, empathy, and hope where sometimes we find none.

LOOK AT THOSE MOUNTAINS AND FORESTS. SERIOUSLY. ITS SO PRETTY. SO SO PRETTY.

Personally, the plot hit close to home. It is a layered tale of loss and redemption, told through the eyes of a young girl who has been forced to grow up too quickly. Through exploring a magical forest, filled with whacky and wonderful creatures (plus a few of the more… deadly variety), you begin to uncover the story of a family in distress, whose dispute has had serious ramifications for the forest’s ecosystem and wellbeing. In her quest to rescue her brother and reunite with her father, Tove manages to piece back together the broken shards of a family of powerful beings – the Guardians of the forest.

If you don’t want any spoilers from the main story, then I’d recommend stepping away from this article now, purchasing the game on Steam, playing it through, eating a large amount of chocolate to recover emotionally and then come back to continue reading! I’m going to talk about a big spoiler from later in the game, because I feel it’s well worth talking about.

God I love mythology. And their gods. Ehehe.

So, SPOILERS AHEAD:

At the start of the game, your brother Lars, is taken by a monster through magic portal. Your father was last seen under a pile of rubble and wooden beams, begging you to take your brother and run.  Although not explicitly stated at the start of the game, its clear that Tove’s mother has died – as well as that the loss is recent. Since the loss of her mother, Tove has had to take on the role of caregiver in her household. From caring for her little brother, to stoking the fire, to cooking for the family, this little girl can do it all. Yet, she shouldn’t have to. Her father is deep in grief over the loss of his beloved wife, leaving Tove alone in her own grief and pain.

As the game progresses, you are tasked with waking the three guardians of the forest – the wolf, the stag, and the bear. You learn that there was a fourth guardian, the raven, but she was outcast into another dimension with her son, a result of her falling in love with a human. Each of the guardians were responsible for a season in the year, as well as working with one another to keep the forest in balance. When the family fell apart, so did the forest they protected. Now the raven, seeks her revenge.

Get thee back satan, THIS IS MY BEDROOM. MINE.

With each of the guardians you wake, Tove is forced to walk through memories that she tried so hard to suppress. These memories are about her mother – key days that they spent together and the days that followed her loss. Facing the past, is an incredibly difficult thing to do. Whenever I think back on the people that I’ve lost, the memories that I’ve desperately tried to forget, it brings a tightness to my chest and a pain to my heart that is hard to describe. So, for Tove to face those memories, to battle through them, all to save her little brother from a mythical creature that is most definitely beyond her abilities to win a fight against, is incredible.

This becomes prominent in the climax of the game, where Tove faces off against the creature that took her brother. It turns out that Röki is the son of the raven guardian, who is desperate to have her son accepted by the world that cast them out. She is merely a mother that wants her son to have a normal life, though she really needs to work on her methods because child sacrifice through dark magic is not the best approach. In our eyes, she is the villain of this piece but from where she stands, she’s doing what she must. To her, a random human child’s life is nothing in comparison to the happiness of her own offspring.

Aw sweetheart. Back when you thought it would all be ok.

It is in the finale that one of the most emotional sequences in gaming makes its appearance. I’ve spoken before about games like What Remains of Edith Finch and Drawn to Life, with their powerful plots. However, Röki rockets to the top of that list in my minds eye, because it feels so heartfully genuine and real, that it is remarkably similar to some of the nightmares that I have had due to my ongoing battle with PTS. Tove is forced to relive the day of her mother’s death, which depressingly, is also her baby brother’s birthday. You sprint around a forest, desperately trying to track down the ringing phone that could bring medical help to save your mother. Yet every time that you have it in your grasp, you are teleported back to your parents’ side who beg you to do something, that only you can save her. It’s a harrowing but powerful moment.

Anyways, this review has gone on much longer than normal. If you haven’t played Röki, please do check it out, the folks at Polygon Treehouse are talented and extremely lovely. Have a good week everyone, remember to wash your hands and wear a mask. Remember to follow the site, follow my twitter @OurMindGames and like/comment!

CaitlinRC.