The Struggle Is Real

There’s something oddly reassuring when you can make up your mind; when you can say “yes, this is exactly what I want to do!” and feeling the strength from the decision flow through your body.

Then there’s the black cloud that comes from the future itself. It seems like I’m always going on about the future, but it’s there. The future is never going away. I have tried to run away from it all as best I could, but I can’t escape it.

Since I can’t escape it, I’m facing it as best I can, and it seems that the stress from… well, everything, is just piling up.

Part of my struggle is getting rid of a certain mindset. Going from my usually negative attitude towards a more positive, and hopeful one. To fully understand why, you should probably know that I have, for the past ten or so years, have dealt with a very serious mental illness: depression.

Being on medication helps; having a steady support system helps; I have literally changed my life for the better in just over a year and I am so far from the person who I was, it’s amazing.

Yet I can’t help but fear that I’m never going to be good enough; that my future is going to go down the drain in the matter of minutes; that I’m going to go back into that dark state.

Few people know this, but I’ll be honest – I literally just quit going to school in 2013, I was so far in that pit of despair. I hated everything, everyone. So what was my reaction to continuing school?

Saying fuck it. I didn’t try. I hated being in a classroom so much and I could feel my spirit leak away with each passing day. I had no plan, I had no gumption, I had to no reason to fully commit myself to college.

Then, back in December (2014!), one of my closest friends suggested going back to school for something that has always, always been a large part of my life – video games.

First off, yes, I’m a nerd. Second off, I do not want to live in my parents’ basement.

At first, I laughed it off, because for real, could someone like me, who has never had a plan, who has never felt that I have a talent, could I truly go into the gaming industry?

Then I started researching it. I started thinking about it. I started remembering all the different game ideas my brother and I threw around and what we wanted to bring to the masses of the world.

It was then I realized – I’m gonna be a fucking nerd. I’m gonna be the person who helps design games, because that sounds fun. I had found something I was truly, truly interested in and didn’t feel half-assed about!

To help get an idea of what I’d be doing, I signed up for a 3D modeling class (community, so not a full term) and Thursday, the 12th, was the first class.

I have been so nervous about going into this field, about figuring out what I’m doing, about the different classes, and the grades, and homework, and the financial aspect – oh, god, the financial aspect – that I have felt it killing me. Even now, my shoulders are tense. But going into that class, learning how to use SketchUp, I stopped worrying.

I felt anxious for about the first fifteen minutes of class, and for about five minutes during a break, but… I was so excited about making a stupid 3D rectangle. All I could think to myself, THIS IS SO COOL. I WANT TO START BUILDING A GAME, RIGHT. NOW.

And it felt so good. I’m so excited to go back to school; I’m excited to take art, science, psychology, speech, and sociology to get my associates degree – hell, I’m even kinda excited to go back into math. I hate math.

I’m still worried about affording college; that’s not gonna go away anytime soon. I worry about literally everything – but I’m excited, too. I’m pushing forward, and saying “Fuck you, depression, I will not let you keep me down; I cannot let you keep me down.”

Though I will admit that I’m anxious. As an introvert with social anxiety… people are not my strong suit. But that’s another thing for another time. 😉



Memories and Wonderings

I’ve thought hard and long about this week’s post. I just wasn’t sure, like usual. But I kept thinking about something; I kept thinking about a person I’ve not seen in about four years. I grew up with this kid and he was one of my best friends before middle school. I wonder periodically what he’s doing with his life, how much he’s changed, if he remembers me at all. Even when we weren’t friends, we were around each other somehow, be it his girlfriends/my friends, classes, or just the fact that Molalla is small. I know I have him on Facebook, but Facebook is a scary place.

I wrote a poem about him. It’s about this one memory my mother never lets me forget. I called it Digging for Moles.


Digging in my new jumper,
Shoving my arm down dark holes,
Giggling with my best friend,
Looking for moles.
Blonde hair, brown eyes,
Mischievous smiles,
The aide finds us after thinking us lost,
As we look for moles.
Campfire, birthday parties, middle school,
Chickens, girlfriends, high school.
He was once my best friend,
And why we dug for moles.
I still remember him, my best friend,
He was important and yet we changed.
Even though we drifted apart,
I still remember digging for moles.

If you haven’t guess by now what was happening, in elementary school, this person and I would stick our arms down holes, looking for something. One day, the recess aide came looking for us and reported it to my mom, because she thought we had gotten lost somewhere.

Yeah… he just got his own serious poem, and I don’t think he’ll ever know.