Oh joy, brain.

Last week, I had a big crash of confidence and self-esteem, of which I’m still feeling the effects of now. I’m writing about it and coming clean because I’m sick and tired now of keeping everything kept in to myself, but at the same time, I’m at a bit of a loss, really.

It started last Thursday after a depressing dream which involved thoughts of where I was going with my life, where I had gone with my life, both personally and professionally.

I’ve fucked up some stuff in my life, both personally and professionally, in the past ten years, but this dream featured the two biggest fuck ups in their respective categories and in particular, one person in the games industry who I feel has been hawking over me since 2012. I’ve not seen this person in a while – nearly two years – but no matter how hard I try to move on so they don’t have an effect, it just keeps catching up. And it does have an effect. It’s amazing how ‘backstage gossip’ can really affect someone’s mental being.

That dream had me in a very foul mood for the rest of the day. It also made me think what I was doing with my life which just made it worse. Later in the day, doing errands, I felt I had the piss taken out of me by someone in my immediate family and then later in the evening, chastised a bit by another member of my family. That topped off the beginning of the descent. That kicked in the self-doubt and feelings in my head.

I had a small rant about it on Twitter and then on Facebook because I was just sick and tired of  that self-doubt telling me to just hold it in anymore, sick that if I dared vent publicly, I’d get chastised by it – whether publicly or privately – and that I should keep my feelings to myself.

The next day, I tried to do a get well day. Just stay in bed, watch Dave Chappelle and just do what I want. I’d try and stay off the computer at least for the day. That would only work for most of the day. I would come back but just for one or two things, including changing how this blog looks and then tweet about it when finished. Even when I was mainly off the computer, I was still not ‘me’.

Then on Saturday, I had another dream. I won’t go into detail even in the slightest as it was a very personal dream. But I couldn’t tell if it was a good dream or a bad one considering it’s nature. Still don’t know even now. I wish I did. That dream was in my head for a good portion of the day to the point I took a long walk around a lengthy part of the Waterside area of Derry to clear my head, not just of the dream, but other things too. Despite being out for an hour-and-a-half, it did nothing.

Since these past few days, I’ve been thinking – whether by choice or not – about life stuff thanks to that stupid dream on Thursday. Where I am, what I should be doing, other elements it, etc. For a start, there’s professional stuff: I’ve not felt any motivation to write about anything games related for a living since the year started. I have an idea or two squirled away, but the motivation has just not been there. Even with an open offer to try and write something for somewhere I love to kingdom come with an incredible editor, I just feel so useless and desperate in trying to come up with something that would be to this person’s taste only for it to crash and burn because it was so rubbish in the first place, both in idea and pitch. The same is true for My Favourite Game. I already have the ten people I have in mind for Season 4 already down on the list and next week is when I had planned to start to approach people. Except the motivation for that isn’t as there as it should be. Not quite gone, but on the fritz anyway.

But it’s not just professionally, it’s personally too. I don’t quite want to get into it as, quite frankly, I’m embarrassed to detail it, but it involves a thing from nearly ten years ago that now stems as one of my biggest regrets – if not my biggest – when in school.

I just want to write again and this is a little cathartic in that. But even then, like I said, it all comes back to what I said earlier of being sick and tired of keeping things to myself. “But Johnny,” I hear you shout, “instead of venting publicly like an idiot, keep it to yourself or at the very least, do so privately with someone.” And that’s a good point, at least the latter is anyway. And I do have people to go to. And I had people come to me last week asking if I was alright last Friday after my mini-mental breakdown on Thursday (I’m so sorry I didn’t reply to you, relevant people, your messages didn’t go unread. I just didn’t want to talk to anyone that day. I’m sorry if I wasted your time messaging me).

But as I mentioned last November, while there will be people I can go to, I’m fussy over who I want to talk to. Not just being a fussy person, but mainly of a trust thing. So that’s why.

This is perhaps the biggest crash of self-confidence I’ve had in a long time, perhaps ever. I feel that ashamed of this crash, I even took down from my wall photos of people I consider good friends of mine, some of whom I’d consider to be really close with. There’s a video I’ve thought of these past few days that one such friend linked to a few years ago I think of on occasion: it’s this one. In that scenario, my black dog right now feels like it’s the size of one of the colossi from Shadow of the Colossus.

Honestly, I’m scared right now. I’m scared even writing this because I don’t know what reaction if any I’ll get to this. I shouldn’t be feeling this way, I know that. And that’s what’s scaring me right now.

I’m hoping by posting this, I can take the first step – no matter how big or small – in regards to getting out of what has been an incredibly shitty four days.

(kind of tells you a lot the only thing that has made me near the semblance of happy these past few days is the Royal fucking Rumble)

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