Okay... glowy, silvery girl(?) in the airlock. Hologram, ghost, serious level of augmentation, or something else entirely? Your public demands to know!
On a more practical slant, I'm not convinced barefoot in shorts is the optimum ensemble for boarding another spaceship
Touching on the real-life stuff, a point I've had made to me both in relation to art and to managing chronic illness/disability is that they both need to be treated professionally -- that's not 'treated by professionals', but rather that you as the artist/person with the illness need to approach each of them as though they are a profession if you are truly serious about getting the best from them. It's a double-edged sword to an extent, particularly with the art, as it means giving attention to something other than just your muse, but if, for instance, you can talk management to the managers then you are better placed to keep them out of your hair to let yourself concentrate on the actual creative stuff.
Pacing-wise there are two separate issues with a web-comic: how does it work as a page a week/whatever ongoing tale, and how does it work as a single work to be read in a sitting. I'm pretty patient, it didn't matter to me that Chapter 6 took a year to tell and was mostly people talking in static situations, because I found what they were saying interesting, but for other people without that patience and interest I can easily see that it would drag. OTOH reading it in one sitting wouldn't quite have the same degree of dragginess. Perhaps the issue with Chapter 6 was that both the current and flashback threads were static and talky; one talky, one-action based might have struck a better balance for the less committed readers. Even the best of writers have trouble finding a balance that satisfies everyone -- look at what happened to Serenity. Personally I'm more concerned with how the tale will read when complete, but anyone doing something episodic has to consider the audience reading it piece by piece, and inevitably that means compromise and likely a sulking muse