Matthew Wright
I used to call myself a runner, a novelist, some this or that. Even “bartender” was an honorific once. Titles were important. I wanted to be something. I’m old enough now to be nothing and nobody (hat tip, Franny Glass). I still use a few formal designations, but mostly for context.
- I’m narcoleptic. I was diagnosed in 2014 and began treatment in 2016. Up to then I didn’t know anything was wrong with me, physiologically. Some of my fondest memories come from before treatment, but much of my life then was an exhausting, surrealistic slog. Everything before medication was short lived. Everything after was like coming out of one of hundreds of blackouts, sobering up, and finding myself in the life I created on my last bender.
- I have depression. Ironically, it’s a common side effect of my medication. I can’t confirm if it was there before. There are quite a few symptoms in the center of that Venn Diagram.
- I’m a web developer. I like my job, as much as anyone probably can, but I don’t love it. It’s how I pay the bills, period. It’s creative at times, interesting most of the time, the people I work for and with are genuinely nice and good. But, when I don’t have to do it anymore, I won’t miss it.
- I’m a writer. It’s not something I call myself often anymore because I don’t make my living doing it. I don’t submit my work. I hardly share what I write, but I never stopped, even when the dream of doing it for a living checked out. I’ve completed a dozen novels, and have been working on a project weaving them all together.