Story of my Illness, Thy Name is Lord Cthulhu

So many things to write, so little time. Grandmother’s Legacy, the tentative title for my Little Red Riding Hood retelling, Torn from a Dragonfly’s Back, an angel/demon/God novella, Like Wax Under Flame, The Evanescence Chronicles, and I’m pretty sure my Fanfiction readers are gathering their pitchforks and torches as I write this post now.

To say it would be extremely unfair of me to even think of starting something new when my readers are looking forward to the latest chapter of Error Corrector 3: Revenge of the Sith and the full novel version of Like Wax Under Flame would be the understatement of the century. So, I won’t.

What I will do is write said new ideas down in the form of a blog post.

My year-long illness resulted in some incredibly fascinating if incredibly painful discoveries. And being the vain, narcissist martyr that I am, I knew it would be a sin against Jesus Christ himself not to turn it into a story. Not a story based on reality, of course. No. It would have to be fantastical, mind-bending, symbolic and of course, satirical. Witches, dragons, and prison cells?

Nah. Just doesn’t feel right.

Oh, and I have to be shameless. Can’t take myself seriously at all. Always had a problem with that, but by God, I’m gonna stop. I should take inspiration from Trey Parker and Matt Stone AKA the Almighty Kings of Satire and Shamelessness. South Park is so awesome, one of the most awesome things to ever grace TV and humanity in general. REALLY loved the Coon and Friends series, and when they had Cthulhu being controlled by Cartman and popping Justin Bieber’s head like a grape? God, I could watch that over and over again.

Mmm. Cthulhu.

I don’t remember if I’ve ever hear of Cthulhu before. Yeah, the shame. The shame. How can I call myself a One True Geek if I haven’t heard of Cthulhu? Oh, yeah. Now I have. One True Geek badge, now you are mine to claim.

Or not.

Knowing something exists isn’t enough to earn my One True Geek badge. I have to know about it first. My interest blossomed into full blown fascination after reading (or more specifically, skimming through) a Supernatural Fanfiction series called Redemption Road where Cthulhu was the main villain.

Note to self: update your Dean/Castiel rec list soon with Redemption Road. If it’s not on there, then it is not a true Dean/Castiel rec list even with The Law of Conservation of Energy at the top along with misachan’s best work.

A few weeks later, I found myself wanting to take a break from listening to Napoleon Hill’s lectures while I drew. Scanning Youtube, I stumbled across an audiobook of H.P. Lovecraft’s infamous short story The Call of Cthulhu, the story that spawned the Cthulhu mythos. I’ll admit I’ll have to listen to the story a couple more times before I fully understand the entirety of it, but I got the gist of it. Savage gods called the Old Ones from outer space once ruled the world, but were eventually locked up in the sea, the earth, and the stars. While they’ve been locked up for a good long while, the barbaric human cults who worshiped them remain, and they anticipate the awakening of the dark lord Cthulhu. Cthulhu’s upcoming awakening causes insomnia and madness in several people, including artists.

Hey. Two of the biggest problems my illness caused were chronic insomnia and anxiety that, several times, threatened to drive me crazy. I’m also an artist.

That pretty much settled it. The story of my illness would be based off elements from the Cthulhu mythos.

But it wouldn’t be serious. It would be funny, complete with symbolism, and satire.




The working premise for the story (right now at least) is that Cthulhu has been punished for his corruption of humanity by awakening in the bodies of seas creatures where he can do no harm. He thinks he may be forgiven when he inhabits the body or an Orca whale, but alas, it is not to be. He gets captured and put on display at Sea World.

Enter me, a broody, angst-ridden emo girl who thinks there’s nothing wrong with her even though someone with two brain cells could tell what complete bullshit that is from fifty miles away. I can hear Cthulhu’s voice in my head, which is very shocking as Cthulhu hasn’t been able to speak to anyone in tens of thousands of years. Poor, evil, murderous sea monster.

Anyway, something tells me not to listen to what he has to say, and even though I don’t listen long, I do listen.

Mom: Eating soy will mess up your thyroid.

Me: Mom, I’ll just be eating it for a month or so; just until I’m sure certain meats won’t cause me to breakout.

One month after talking to an imprisoned, impossibly powerful, former monster-tyrant, our poor, stupid heroine begins to experience severe anxiety, unpleasant dreams, and terrible insomnia. She knows Cthulhu is responsible so the only way to get cured is to confront him again. She will be cured…provided she can survive several trials. If she succeeds, she will be rewarded beyond her imagination.

So, that’s the gist of it. The trials will be based on several experiments I conducted in order to cure myself, the professional treatments I underwent (gall bladder surgery, acupuncture, etc.), and the symptoms themselves. The settings will be in dream worlds, so I’ll be able to have fantastical, not-so-sane fun with every scenario.

Like I said before, don’t expect this story to be written any time soon. Along with my current writing responsibilities, I need to do a lot more research on the Cthulhu mythos before I can do the story justice. But I hope you’re all intrigued by the idea.



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