Drowning in Vantablack

TW: suicidal ideation

As for how I survived XX20, I don't even know. I didn't think it would affect my life much since I'm half Hikikomori already. Couldn't have been anything new. Just gotta stay away from people a bit more.

Way back when at the beginning of the year, I got fired from my part-time job. They didn't give me any reason why, but that was my only activity where I constantly interacted with people! I was trying to not be a hermit anymore and change myself after years. Fate just had to say, "Nah," and screw everything up.

I was already a freelancer which paid what I needed to survive physically. So I isolated myself from people in my one-room apartment with LED lighting, closed windows, and gaming. My precious lights started to feel more colorful than me though. It was the same feeling day in and day out. Even though I use voice chat, I played with randoms anyway so it was all cursing and slurs. But it was all a spiral, a slow wind into an ocean of blackest black paint.

If it wasn't for my amazon deliveries, I would've probably forgotten that there are 3D people who looked different than me. No one cared about me anymore though. Never had many friends before the lockdown so it wasn't like anyone took notice of me. I didn't want to kill myself then, I just wanted someone to care. Just a bit of human touch, that's all.

Luckily, I didn't act on my urges. Asuna, one of my few friends for years died from COVID. I hadn't even talked to her much once the lockdown started and I felt like such an asshole. She could've died knowing she had my well wishes. At least she had the good wishes of the other normals around her. Attending the Zoom for her funeral chipped away a chunk of my soul. Everyone there was with her in her last few weeks of life while I was an old friend brought in on a whim.

From that day on, every day was drowning in that ocean of blackest black without a bottom. Falling deeper and deeper. I didn't think I'd ever see the surface's bright colors again. No no no, I was doomed to sink in my own depression.

But a snazzy life preserver came sinking down in the depths, offering to pull me up. Even just a bit. I grabbed it that day, August 13th, when Watari came over. I swear he's nothing like his Death Note counterpart. Constant smiles and hype with him. He was the bundle of color that promised to get me out of the paint. Even though I kicked his ass at Mario Kart, he was still positive and adamant that he'd win, like a shounen protagonist. Even when he left and gave me a high-five handshake, I ended up a few feet higher than I'd been before. I wasn't sinking for a while anymore too.

By October, the lockdown was slowly trying to lift up at the right speed and I thought it'd be ok to go to a convention. Airplanes still terrified me so I opted for Spookyfest down in the city. I didn't dress up much other than a long hoodie to show off some semblance of the theme. They had a bunch of new COVID procedures but I ran back home after 10 minutes of being there. I felt like at any moment someone was going to cough on me and I'd die from COVID sad and alone with only my body pillows to attend my funeral. Once I got home, I just curled into a ball and cried for an hour while my anxiety kicked up and got me even more scared of people's coughs. I'd sunk deeper again and now there was a fearful shark next to me that made me scared of everyone. It was just like the days of old again. Sinking and sinking and sinking.

I did get some food though. On Thanksgiving, Watari came over with half homemade wonders and half pizza. Colors galore! No way could we have finished that in one sitting, no no no. He took half and I kept half when he left late that night. All the leftovers I had and ate for the days after Thanksgiving filled me up with a glow of color.

None of it could've fully light up the ocean though, especially when Thanksgiving only reminded me of my childhood. Family gatherings as much as I hated them, were what I wanted all over again. I had color in my life back then, couldn't even see the blackest black ocean. Family, friends, food. That was a lifetime ago and now I didn't feel thankful for anything in my life, as badly as it was going. I acknowledged that I wasn't homeless and starving but I didn't feel grateful for that. It's just like a stranger on the internet said, "No one is thankful for something until they've lost it." Randoms are wise in mysterious ways, you know.

By December, I was at the lowest depth I'd ever been. I even bought a rope for committing suicide but couldn't bring myself to it. It was just in its box for weeks and I stared at it often, like it would magically strangle me if I didn't keep watch. On Christmas Day though, I got an unexpected ring from my doorbell. One hundred fearful reasons for an unexpected ringing were being conjured in my head but I wanted to be a nice person to strangers at least, so I opened the door after moving my body pillow out of view. One of those moms in the apartment complex extended her hands and put a card on the floor. Smiles were so clearly present under her mask. She walked away down the nearby stairs.

The note read, "You've got this!" with a cringe 2010s cat meme. It was still more support than anyone excluding Watari had given me for the year. The little thing inspired me to try again. To not kill myself. To be a normie for a bit, I guess.