The Downward Spiral
I may not have made it known in the past couple weeks on this blog, but I was a member of the staff on Operation Rainfall’s site as a writer. It’s why this place turned into a ghost town. My time was being spent there, and it’s a place I wish I was still spending time, but once again, for the millionth time in my life, my stubborn pride and impatience become my undoing.
When it first started out, it was a great experience. The staff is excellent and very passionate about what they do. I felt like I was going to fit in, and I did. My first week went pretty smoothly. I had 10 articles posted in that span, which is downright nuts, as I was only expected to do two a week. I wanted to contribute so much more, though, and become a true asset to the site. Towards the end of that week, though, and all of this past week, cracks started to show.
I don’t want to dig into fine details, as I don’t want to diss the site in any way, shape, or form. I have a lot of respect for them. Really. The campaign they launched in 2011 changed the face of how consumers and game publishers interact. What it came down to, though, was simply that I was trying to help the site, but not getting the help I needed in return in order to do so. That, and I’m just an uptight fuck when it comes to my own writing, to the point that I don’t want anyone touching it. Some edits made to my articles were not to my liking, and every time I saw one, it ate away at me. It was like someone was telling me, “you’re doing it wrong.” I felt vulnerable, but in the end, I’m just a stubborn ass.
If you haven’t caught on by this point, then I’ll go ahead and just say it: I’m no longer a staff member of Operation Rainfall. I quit. I reluctantly handed in my resignation last night. I mean, what’s the use in doing something if you’re not happy doing it? That’s the truth; I was unhappy. I was becoming more and more discouraged, until finally, I just had enough. Maybe my expectations were too high for a volunteer job. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. Hell, I’d take either of those two reasons over the real one. The real reason is something I’ve thought about for a long time, something I’ve kept running from that has been eating me alive. All of this time, every time I try to make a change in my life, make something of it and try to make myself and others proud, there’s always one thing that stands in my way.
I am the problem. I have been tearing myself apart for years. I mean, for fuck’s sake, I’m 24 years old and I still have no fucking idea what I want to do with my life. I simply don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to do anything, but that’s simply not a viable option and I know that. That’s reality. I can’t simply do nothing. Otherwise, why the hell am I still here? Why can’t I seem to figure out the reason I exist? Worst of all, just when I think I find a reason, why do I pull the rug out from under myself? Why is there this incessant voice telling me to just pack it in? That I simply can’t do it?
That’s simply where I stand right now. I didn’t leave oprainfall because of something they did. It’s me. It’s my own fault. I’m a stubborn, useless, impatient, reprehensible, disgusting and negative human being. I hate myself, and have for many, many years. I’m the reason I’m so unhappy. What can I do, though? It’s who I am. I’ve tried to change. Every time I’ve taken on a chance like oprainfall was an attempt at changing who I am. Deep down, though, I constantly question if it’s what I want. I don’t know what I want. I’ve never been able to figure it out and I probably never will.
My stubborn pride will keep telling me everything is okay, but it’s not. I’m miserable. I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. There are no stars in the sky for me to reach for. There never has been and it’s all because I simply don’t know what to do with my life. The very fact that I’m typing this is downright pathetic. I can hear people telling me to shut up and stop whining before I even hit the “Publish” button, and they’re right. There’s nothing else I can do, though. Writing is how I express myself and this is the only way I can comfortably tell people how I feel. I don’t even blame those that don’t care, though. I don’t expect anyone to. I’m not looking for pity.
So, I guess it’s just back to the routine life of just making myself believe that I’m okay and that everything will be just fine. I’ve kept up the ruse this long, so why not even longer? No matter how hard I push myself, I’m simply never going to get anywhere. My life is a downward spiral and I just hope I hit the bottom sooner rather than later, because I don’t know how much longer I can live with myself. I despise who I’ve become and have no one but myself to blame for everything I’ve been through all of my life. I am the problem. I’m simply an incorrigible waste of life.