Update (October 2025)

Hello my beautiful fairies! You may have noticed the shakiness of my upload schedule. There was a long gap in uploading part five and part 6 of my Rose Petal Place retrospective. The gap was due to a mental health crisis. I guess I should explain where I've been, and how I've been feeling.

On September 12th and the following weekend, I had a failed suicide attempt. I suppose I should let you guys know the truth about what happened to me. 

I spent the entire weekend in the hospital after I tried leaping out of my mother's moving car (I failed). She immediately tried driving me to the hospital. Instead, I begged her to take me to college. I saw three councilors at the school, the last one basically telling me to go to the hospital. I saw two more councilors there in the psych ward. It's both not as bad and as bad as it's imagined.

There were "crazy" people screaming, but most of them were just in need of help or felt they weren't being listened to. A lady, Cherilyn Baker, begged for a shower because she thought there was sand in her hair. The nurses said she was suffering through delusions, but she was well enough to use the bathroom and talk to people in normal conversations. When I told her I was going to kill myself, she said: "Take me with you! ...Just kidding." (I don't think she was kidding, as she was talking about wanting to go to a shelter because she "didn't want to live with her anymore".) I just wanted Cherilyn to get her godmother damn shower. My heart broke for that woman.

Basically, the nurses interviewed me and didn't diagnose me with anything, but gave me anti-depression medications that I've been taking every day ever since. They said if they felt I was in danger at home or the hospital, either being dangerous to others or myself, they would take me "upstairs", where I'd be stripped to a hospital gown, be denied all my personal belongings, and my parents wouldn't be able to visit me. I was horrified. We had to be kicked out of my psych ward room because someone needed it more than me. We slept at the hospital in a cramped doctor's office. My mother slept in a chair and I slept on the bench that doctor's make you sit on as they take your blood pressure or tap your knee with little hammers. 

I slept for 12 hours according to Mom, waking up at 10 in the morning the next day on Saturday. They were nice enough to give us breakfast, but I was still staving myself as a method of self harm... I eventually caved and had a few grapes and milk. The doctors gave us the medication but no diagnosis, told us to come back here if I got dangerous to myself or others, and we left for home. I spent the rest of the day sleeping and my mom tried feeding me. I had no energy to do anything, like read or draw or even talk much to my own family (except Mom). But Sunday went a little better, and I had enough energy to do a few things. But I don't remember much about Sunday other than I had a horrid night's sleep.

But now we're here. I'm home, and I'm safe for now. I still hate myself, but I won't hurt myself. I utterly loathe who I am as a person and I don't honestly know what you lot see in someone like me. I wish I could just know what the Hell is wrong with someone like me, and the hospital wouldn't give me an answer. Now I'm back in school, trying to find anything that brings me joy or meaning again. I can't remember the last time I felt genuinely happy. 

With that being said, this blog absolutely helps. Watching cartoons and writing about them has helped me a lot in distracting myself from the creepy crawlies of the world, from politics to genocide to poverty. I'm a highly sensitive person, and if I see suffering out in the world, I feel personally responsible. I've made several attempts over the years to volunteer and help my communities and beyond, but I've been denied these opportunities despite my efforts to enlist. No food bank, retirement home, dog shelter, or charity wants me on staff. All I can really do is buy groceries for a friend in Palestine and buy even more groceries for my church's food bank. I feel like a total jerk, wasting my time in my room. But while I can't go out in the world and offer support or effort in charitable fields, I can at the very least try and generate my own happiness by writing my opinions about animation on my blog.

Now, not all my opinions are met with smiles. I was legitimately fired from a job designing backgrounds for an animated show because I didn't like Knights of Guinevere and thought its pilot was lame. Yes, really. Granted, my boss was a complete tool (Jesse, you're a bully and a crybaby). Maybe it's a victim complex, but it really does feel like the world picks on me sometimes. With that being said, I want to be better. I want to be good, I just struggle to find ways to be good and learn how to be good. All I can really do is to try to be honest with myself and others, offer an ear or hand when I can, not scare my friends or fans, and continue to take medication and seek therapy as I have been doing (currently, I have three therapists). 

I appreciate the kindness and support you have given me, but know that I'm going through a rough journey right now and might not always be consistent in uploading my internet reviews, especially as I'm still in college. Thank you again for your love, and I only hope to continue to share love in the future and find my happiness again- even if it's through something as weird as cartoons.

Your Clairy Godmother, Claire Aimée Spencer