I know I said I was aiming for a lengthier post, but it ended up not happening. Today kind of sucked to be honest. My friend Eli finally updated his blog, but for a really unfortunate reason. I had a big fight with someone I love very much, which resulted in me realizing just how broken I am and choosing to walk away for both our good. I found out that my friend and former classmate Justin Kautz was killed in an avalanche on Friday out in Jackson Hole. It’s sort of a fitting way to go, given his love of the mountains and skiing, but still really really unfortunate. He was a hell of a person, one of the few genuinely nice guys. Last time I’d touched base with him, he was working on a book (a collection of short stories) out in Jackson Hole. Ironically, I was just thinking about getting ahold of him to see how it was coming a week or so ago. It may be something of a pipe dream, but I hope things were done enough to be published posthumously… I think he would have wanted that. He’ll definitely be missed. Requiescat in pace.
Tag Archives: depression
Home Again
I’m a bit wiped at the moment, but I did want to officially report my return to the Upper Valley. The drive from DC to Vermont went surprisingly quickly, listening to my collection of King Crimson with the sunroof open in the 70 degree air. I haven’t taken an exact total, but I drove roughly 4000 miles in just under a week… not too shabby, if I say so myself. It felt really good to have some time with the road. I’ve mentioned before that it’s a meditation for me, but it’s also a catharsis. If I don’t get on the road every so often, I get stircrazy and depressed. (Not saying I’m not depressed anymore, but it did help. Any time where you’re alone with your thoughts for an extended period is something of a double edged sword, but on the whole I think it did more help than harm.)
I’d like to sit down and write something a bit more substantial about the trip sometime soon… maybe for tomorrow’s post, once I’ve had a chance to slow down and rest for a bit.
Roaming
I packed a bag, and told my folks that I’ll be back sometime tomorrow. Got in my car, and started driving… wandered north on 91 until I hit 93, and then followed 93 South through Boston, until I ended up in Providence. I found myself on autopilot, getting off the same exit I always did, and wandering around town before ending up in the Apple Store at the mall. The mall is full of christmas shoppers, and I’m walking around thinking to myself that I’m coming slowly unraveled. It’s been the theme of the trip, really. I had Modest Mouse on for most of the trip, and kept on picking out the recurring themes of drifting and wandering and walking a hairy hairy edge on losing your mind. “The World at Large” continues to resonate strongly with me, with its followup, “Float On” a resounding mantra for me to keep in mind, that even if things end up a bit too heavy, we’ll all float on alright.
And now the update continues the next morning. Shortly after starting this post, I got a case of the shakes, and had to go find some food, fast. It’s something that happens sometimes. After eating a delicious chicken primavera (and subsequently handing my leftovers to a homeless man on the street), I climbed back into my car, and continued to drive. I’d been thinking of staying in Providence to photograph the streets late at night, but I found myself wanting to get wandering again. There’s still a lot of pent up frustration and hurt left over from the pseudo-exile that’s been imposed by the folks down there.
I ended up wandering east down 195, until I reached Cape Cod. I wandered up the Cape, until I ended up in Provincetown, at Race Point, where I stopped for the night. I wandered around the beach in the dark for a while, and then curled up in my car until morning. I was hoping to get some sunrise shots, but it was a remarkably grey dawn, with no color to speak of. Now I’m at the Rockingham Park Apple Store, again blogging. The free wireless access is truly a godsend for the itinerant blogger.
I have commitments back home tonight, and tomorrow, and again on the 21st. It’s probably for the best that I do. Otherwise, I don’t know where I’d stop.
It’s December Again
I have, for all intensive purposes, disappeared for the past month, notwithstanding a one liner expounding the virtues of my dog. I’m not sure who exactly is interested in what’s been going on, but I figure it’s time to get back into the swing of things nevertheless. When we last left our adventures, our intrepid explorer was about to embark on a trip southward… well, that happened. I sauntered down to Silver Spring, where I spent a few days crashing with my brother and our friend Shane, and seeing several people in the DC area. Missed Hawk, missed Katy, managed to catch up (briefly) with Scott, Kevin, Andrea, Kyle, and Elizabeth, and in general had a good time. After that, I meandered further south down to Colonial Williamsburg, VA, where I spent Thanksgiving weekend with my friend Claire and her family, who were all simply fantastic. I had a really good time wandering around them, and getting to spend time with Claire was, well, like rain in the desert: cherished and far too rare. To any of you who happen to read this: thank you for letting me tag along.
My plans to continue southward were modified a bit, and I ended up heading back north after the weekend. I spent the week at home, and for the life of me, I can’t remember anything in particular about it, which is kind of unfortunate — anyone who has talked with me for more than 20 minutes knows how much I recount little esoteric minutiae, so having gaps kind of annoys me. I do know that the week was mostly in anticipation and planning for heading south again, this time down to South Carolina with Mike, Uri, and Kyle, to attend our friend Mariah’s graduation from Basic. Perhaps it seems a little odd to drive 2000 miles for essentially 2 hours of hanging out and a 45 minute ceremony, but the point was to show our support, and get out of the area for a while at the same time, so all in all, I’d say it was well worth it.
As ever, I drove the whole way. We had several very capable drivers in the car, they even offered, but I didn’t really ever feel ready to relinquish the wheel… I enjoy the act of driving and travel too much, I suppose. Which sort of segues into my next tidbit of information: I’ll likely be moving back to Seattle sometime in early January. I don’t know precisely when, but my current idea is to leave towards the end of the first week or beginning of the second. I still don’t have a job, nor have I lined up a place to live, but sometimes a leap of faith is necessary for progress to be made.
I say that it’s “likely” because there’s another idea that I’m working on at the moment. Without getting into too many details, I’m approaching a few schools that I think would benefit from it about designing a game design major for them. The first one I’m approaching is RISD, because I feel it’s the most obvious choice, and would benefit most directly from offering such a program. If they shoot it down, I have a few others I’m considering (including home turf, Dartmouth). There are a variety of reasons I’m looking into this, a lot of which stems from feeling confident that I could put together a strong game design curriculum that would make it genuinely competitive with other programs out there. I’ve also realized that as much as I despise the politics and hoop jumping of academia, I like to learn, and I like to share that learning with others… I’ve been giving some serious thought to applying to a masters program and becoming a professor somewhere. I’ll be putting together some basic information to send to the folks at RISD sometime in the next day or two, so hopefully we’ll see what sort of response they give soon enough.
That’s what I’ve been up to, mostly. I’ve been reading fiction again, which is nice (most recently, Anansi Boys, Stardust, and Good Omens… I also picked up Light, so that’s up next on my list). I’ve been working at pulling myself up by the bootstraps to get out of a really bad funk I’ve been in for the past few months, and while it’s still something of a rollercoaster, I think progress IS being made, slowly but surely. Some people in particular have really helped me, and I hope you know who you are. Several of them (but not all) have already been mentioned in this post, as a hint. One of these days, I hope I wake up and feel good and coherent and passionate again. Waking up and feeling like I’m “back” would be amazing beyond words.
I’ve had seven heart attacks… all imagined.
I’m not sure how long I’m going to make this post, but I did feel like it was time I gave a general update about what’s happening in my life. The short of it is that I’m at a crossroads, and it’s coming time to make a decision on what path I’m going to take.
Let me explain. As I’m sure the past string of blogposts have made abundantly clear, my job hunting has proven to have less than stellar results, leaving me out of school and unemployed for the past six months. As those of you who’ve been in extended periods of unemployment before are aware, this has been a major source of stress and frustration in my life, and a drain on my finances, which exacerbates the stress. (So I end up talking about it a lot.)
So this lack of success in finding employment has caused me to stop and take stock of what exactly it is that I’m trying to do. I mean, other than get a job because I need the money. What sort of job am I really looking for? The theory goes that I should arguably be looking for something that leads down my chosen career path… which is what, exactly? It’s currently up in the air. I could continue to pursue a career in game design and development. It can be a lucrative and rewarding career (sometimes even both), though even from my peripheral position, it is by no means a bed of roses (what is?).
The other idea that continues to come up in my thoughts again and again is the idea of finding something I can do to pay the bills four days a week, and spend the other three days writing, and pursuing a career of it. There are thousands of people trying to do just this, and it’s not exactly an easy path, with any sort of assurance of financial stability. That said, I keep on coming back to it, and have for years. I come to it, tell myself that there are other things I should focus on first, and table it. Well, maybe it’s time to not table it, but really go forward with it. That’s the crossroads… game design, or writing. There’s no reason I couldn’t switch gears later, or even (arguably) do both, but I feel like I should focus on ONE for right now, if only so I can feel like I have a bit of direction here.
Progress (or the illusion of it) is important for your sanity, I’ve found. I spent most of October in various states of isolation and seclusion, which in hindsight wasn’t the brightest move on my part. Just before starting my seclusion, I got some unneeded drama laid on my head, and all that time with nothing by my own head to live with did some serious damage. A lot of the work I’ve done over the past few years to improve some of my issues (slightly OCD, history of severe depression) has been washed away, and it’s definitely proving an uphill battle to get back to a good spot mentally and emotionally.
I’m heading south in a few days, which I’m hoping will restore some of my equilibrium. I’m heading to DC for a few days, and then will be continuing further south, until I reach… well, who knows. I’m not entirely sure when I’m heading back north. I may end up camping in the Keys for a while — I have a laptop, there’s no reason I can’t work on things while I’m gone, and no reason I can’t continue to send out resumes via coffee shops and other free wireless places down the seaboard. I’ve been going stircrazy looking for an excuse to travel, and this is as good a reason as any.
For the record, I’m not getting a Wii. I’m not getting a PS3. I’m sure they’re very good systems, and sooner or later, I’m sure I’ll make the investment. I’d certainly LIKE to, but it simply doesn’t make sense for right now. Maybe once the holiday crazes die down, and I have a job to pay for it. Best wishes to those of you who are getting them, hope they’re as fun as the hype says.
At this point, I’m kind of bouncing around in terms of topics. I had a more cohesive thought for this when I started it, but a series of variables are making that cohesion highly unlikely. There are so many things I want to say, and I don’t know when I’ll get to say them. I do want to say something, though: Thank you.
I mean it. To each of you reading this, whether we’ve known each other for years, or have never formally met, lurkers and posters both. For simply giving enough of a damn to come here and read, I want to thank you. Whether you’ve just passed through, or gone back to the beginning and read it all, it means something intangible but important. It says that even the small voice is valuable, even the personal is important, and even strangers can share common bonds. So… yeah. Thank you. Thanks for reading. Thanks for caring, even a little. I’ll do my best to make that care well deserved.
Real Post
I can’t speak for anyone else on this matter. Perhaps others don’t have this issue. For me, however, I find myself often stuck in a position of desperately wanting company but simultaneously not wanting to deal with anyone. These feelings are also often accompanied by a desire to make a social rapport with someone — anyone, a friend, the waiter, random pedestrians, you name it — and having efforts to achieve that fail miserably. It’s happened to me dozens and dozens of times, and I STILL don’t know whether it’s just me perceiving a failure (your own worst critic and all), or if there really are times where I really am just completely disfunctional. As I’m sure the reader has surmised, today was one of these days. I found myself desperately trying to make a connection and kept on feeling more and more disconnected for it. And it’s no one’s fault but my own for creating a need that relies on the energy and presence of others, who may be quite busy and unable to participate even if they had the time. And of course, I’m just as guilty of shutting others out in much the same way, over the years. Things come up, or I simply don’t have the energy to devote to an in depth conversation, but the other side wants to dive in, even needs to dive in. The feeling of a real rapport with someone is addictive.
I’m sure all of this isn’t helped by the fact that I was off in my room for most of the day, since for the next week or so, I am without my laptop. There were a number of little niggling things that were making me uneasy, and then two nights ago it started making a whining noise, so I decided enough was enough, backed up my user directory, and drove it down to the Apple Store in Rockingham Park to get it serviced (still under warranty thank god). The Mac Genius there was moving about a mile a minute the entire time we were there, and it’s pretty clear he’d been that way since he got on shift. Looking at their listings on the Apple jobs site, they’re understaffed, and really should have had a second Genius on to help lighten the load (the wait time was over 2 hours when we got there… we managed to slide in during a cancelled reservation after about an hour). They’re saying 5 to 7 days, but it’s still really unfortunate timing, since I’m about to head to Peterborough for the annual meeting, and would have liked to have it for then. Still, better to have it fixed and ship-shape, I suppose.
I’ve been feeling pretty dysfunctional lately, in a really strange way. In terms of basic function, I’m doing alright, even getting up at reasonable hours (assuming I’m not going to bed at 3am, of course), exercising at least a little, eating moderately alright, and in general trying to get what I need to do done. It’s more intangible than that: I feel dysfunctional on a creative and intellectual level. I feel like I’m just repeating the same things over and over, telling and retelling the same stories and anecdotes, and not growing or deepening as an individual. I feel boring, and that I’m boring other people with my lack of growth and insights. I’m feeling mired in the present and the mundane and that it’s become the centerpiece of my conversations… rather than discussing some idea with passion and zest, I talk about how my car was broken into, and my computer needs fixing, and all this other mundane shit that doesn’t even fucking matter in anything close to a grand sense. (Well, beyond that everything and everyone matters within the cosmic consciousness.) It makes me feel like I’m wasting the time of others as well as myself, and bring nothing worth offering to the table in relationships with others who have kept that passion and honed their talents and intellect. Feh.
Offhanded Rambling
I haven’t really just rambled about things in a while, which is sort of a shame, as I do find it remarkably cathartic and useful in recharging my creative batteries, so to speak. Lately, all it seems like I’m doing is just giving quick updates about what’s happening in my life, without much in the way of me in the process. Sometimes, I’m afraid that I’ve forgotten how. I’ve been reading a lot lately (and even then, not as much as I should; I really ought to just sit down and cram a few more books into me over the next week or two), including quite a few blogs mostly talking aobut game design, development, the gaming industry, and game related politics. (A quick segue: as most of you are aware, I am adamantly opposed to government legislature that restricts any civil right, no matter the reason. Needless to say, I am furious over FEPA. Regardless of the current trend, I stand by my belief that we were not meant to be governed by a nanny state, and will be once again writing my congressmen saying as much. Seque addressed; back to the topic.)
Games have been a major part of my life for quite few years at this point, and in a lot of ways it’s been great to have an excuse to immerse myself in the subject. That said, it is a large and daunting topic, and more than once in the past two months, I’ve felt somewhat overwhelmed by the amount of material to not only read and internalize, but also then reflect upon and write about it in time for my monthly due dates. While I’m sure that personal factors have a major role in how scattered I’ve been with it all, that is ultimately an excuse that does nothing for very real deadlines and very real concerns over worth and hireability in the post-graduate world. The last thing I want to do is bullshit my way through this semester and come out of it feeling lackluster over my abilities and value to potential employers. I am well aware that I am overly critical of my own knowledge and abilities, but that doesn’t stop me from feeling like I should be doing better.
I’ve been hashing out a few game ideas, and hopefully I will be in a position by the end of the semester to take some of these ideas and bring Critical Games into the development realm (this is, and always has been, my long term goal). This would involve certain things going very right in terms of securing capital (among other things), which while I’m confident CAN be pulled off, still involves a good deal of luck and being in the right place at the right time. The first step is to do well this semester. The second step is to make a good impression at the Game Developer’s Conference this spring (still haven’t received word over getting trust funding to attend that… more prodding may be needed). Third step is to secure funding (I have some assets now, and potentially more coming in the following months, but let’s face it, starting a development company isn’t cheap, even assuming you are able to hire developers for equity). I have some ideas on what to do about the hiring/funding part, not the least of which involves giving developers “points” in each game in a similar fashion to how movies are handled, rather than equity in the company itself; unless it’s a best seller with a great contract with the publisher, development houses tend not to really make much of a profit (and often fold), so equity in one can be a hard sell.
Shifting back toward an academic bent for a moment, I’ve been thinking a lot about how I’m going to organize my final product. I know what the product will be (a collection of essays about games), but now comes the challenge of writing those essays in a cogent, cohesive manner and in a fashion that really addresses my core topic (games as literature and art). My writing feels rushed (because it is) and scattered (also because it is), as I’ve been addressing whatever topics strike me as wanting or needing to be talked about. While that’s fine for a blog, I need to be a bit more collected for my study. Ideally, I’ll wake up tomorrow, feel rested and whole, and start pounding through books and essays like a man possessed.
Instead, I’ve been an insomniac, not being able to sleep before 3, 4, 5am. Not for lack of trying, I just haven’t been able to pull it off. I’ve also been painfully aware of a feeling broken, incomplete for the past week or two. This isn’t surprising; when the marriage abruptly fell apart back in April, I was put on a fairly high dosage of a powerful anti-depressant (20mg Lexapro, for the curious), which I only recently got off, so it’s entirely possible that the “broken”, “scattered” feeling is attributable to withdrawal symptoms. This certainly adds an extra challenge to the semester, but I’ll simply have to learn to cope; I have no wish to be on anti-depressants any longer than I have to. Besides, if I can get organized and pull out a great semester through all that, I can get through anything, right?
One step at a time: I’m in the second to smallest bedroom in the house (the smallest that’s being used as a bedroom), and have arguably the most “stuff” to try and find a place for. This has proven to be an interesting adventure to deal with, though hopefully I’ve finally come to a final solution this weekend with the delivery of a wardrobe (the room has no closet), so I can stop living out of a suitcase, and a bookshelf, so I can finally empty out and get rid of the pile of boxes of books that are scattered around the room. This is more important for me than you might think: for me, a clean room is a clean mind; organizing my room is a meditation that helps me organize my thoughts for writing. (As those who’ve lived with me in the past can attest, you’ll never see my office cleaner than when a school packet is due.) I haven’t been able to organize my room because I simply haven’t had anywhere to put anything.
I suppose it’s dichotomous that I talk about these personal issues in the same post that I talk about ideas for handling game development, but I’ll let you in a little secret; that’s simply how I am. I feel embarassed talking about myself and my personal problems, I hate doing it, but still feel the need to get it out, and feel better after I’ve done it. Talking about impersonal things is my shield from my personal self, and it’s where I go to hide after exposing myself and to build up the courage to expose myself again. I’ve been cognizant that this is what I’m doing for a long long time, but I haven’t ever really sat down and explained this before. My apologies if this frustrates anyone; I doubt it will change any time soon. I suppose i could just separate the personal and the impersonal into separate posts, but that’s kind of opposite to my whole writing philosophy, on several levels: it breaks the flow of writing; I rarely (if ever) write drafts, so what you see is raw and usually written in a single sitting. (You wouldn’t believe how fucking nuts it drove me writing my online communities essay, since it was too long to do in one, or even two sittings… this is also my biggest hinderance in actually writing a novel, or anything longer than a short story. I don’t care about the personal/impersonal thing, but THIS is something I want to change, ASAP).
I know a lot of people who read this blog have commented in the past that I tend to write long, dense posts, and that makes it work to read. In consideration for those people, I should probably end it here. Those that read it in syndication on LiveJournal also probably don’t appreciate the giant swarms of text filling their friends page, either. But who knows, maybe they do.
It’s remarkable how quickly I’ve been rebuilding frustration with Avatar. I’ve been back for a few months at most, and I’m already feeling disillusioned and disappointed over the interaction between staff and players, communication on all levels, and the direction of development. Core principles of game design (as delineated from social design, which also has issues going on) are not being considered or implemented. (An immediate example, without giving out specifics, is a failure to balance playability of all user-accessible content; while varying levels of challenge is expected and desired, awareness of the outer limits of playability should always be kept in mind and addressed.) Maybe it’s tied to the withdrawal again, maybe not, but I am getting very close to my threshold about this, and increasingly interested in finding a way to incorporate designing a new MUD into my study (this isn’t much of a stretch; while implementing it would require more time than I have, establishing a roadmap/design document using a type of game I am already extremely familiar with isn’t much of a stretch to include at all).
I hate ending things, especially on a sour note like griping about a game I’ve been involved with for nearly a decade, but there it is. I’m just not sure where else I could take it from here, and don’t really have anything else I want to say right now… leave it to a stress-point to kill a perfectly good ramble.
One Packet to Go
I’ve been in school for most of my life. Pre-school, then Kindergarten, then first through twelfth, a few months off, then a semester, a few months off again, then my current stint at Vermont College. For various reasons, many of which tied to depression, college has taken me a bit more than the stereotypical four years. I started in October of 2000, and God willing, I’ll finally be graduating in October 2005. That’s fully 7 months away and an entire semester, but even so, I’m a little startled by its approach. I’m left taking stock in the work I’ve done, in the topics I’ve studied, and wonder if I’ve actually learned enough to go DO something with it. And if I haven’t, why the hell did I spend so much money for a piece of paper that doesn’t mean anything?
I’m trying not to think about it too much, no point psyching myself out when I’m in the home stretch. It’s definitely in the back of my mind, though.
My current semester has been about writing, though mostly I’ve been doing a lot of reading, as usual. I’ve got a few stories right now that I like, and I’m going to see how far I can take them in this coming month, at which point my last packet will be due. Then I head back east for my residency, and begin my Culminating Semester. The format is a little different than previous semesters, and the final body of work will be bound and placed in the university’s library. This makes me nervous. No matter how good people say my work is, no matter whether others find it acceptable, a part of me is afraid that when the work is actually weighed and measured, I’ll be found like how I feel: a fake. The work is my own, don’t get me wrong, and the amount of fluffing I do is the occasional digression; I don’t even mess with the margins or font size (the favorite length extender of students everywhere). But I don’t feel like the work I did contributes to a greater understanding for the reader or myself. So regardless of whether the essay or annotation succeeds academically, I feel it was a failure.
I’m hoping to change that with my final study. At least a little bit. I plan to focus on game design, which is a daunting enough topic that the only way I’ll complete it is if I take the bull by the horns and aggressively pursue it for the entire semester. But if I do that, then I’ll really have something to be proud of coming out of my degree. I’m down to the wire (I can’t afford another semester, if I screw my culminating one up, my education fund is about depleted), so perhaps it would make sense for me to do a lighter study for my final semester. I’m not going to, though. I want my degree to be something I’m proud of.
Much Ado About 200 Posts
or, 200 Posts About Nothing.
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