For people that actually follow me on twitter or that have been reading my updates here, I have been without a computer for almost 18 months. At first it was because I was dealing with some stuff, then it died and I didnt have the funds until recently to get a new one. Now that I have a new one, I have been getting asked why I havent set it up and rejoined the awesome gaming comunity. Well, thats an easy question.
I live with 3 roommates and in the smaller of the three bedrooms. When I had my other computer set up, I didnt have much room to do much of anything that I want to do. This included making a background for videos and setting up a greenscreen for when I streamed. I had just enough room for my bed, my dressers, and my computer. It was a tight fit.
Now, with one of the roommates moving out, I am getting a larger room. It is much bigger than the room I am in now, and it will allow me to set things up how I want them and to deliver content that I am proud of. The only downside is he hasnt moved out yet. He doesnt technically have to be out of the house until the end of March, which sucks.
But the laptop does come with a few perks. It makes it easier to mod streams and help friends there. It allows me to get back into Blogging easier and even start writing again like I used to. It allows me to use Tweetdeck, which I am now in love with as it is much easier to use than regular twitter. And although I cant play Smite or anything like that, I am able to do other things and get back into the groove. It will also let me work on the podcast I am a part of easier, as well as start setting up the other I wish to start.
All in all, getting this laptop, even though its used, will allow me to do this things that I want to get started, even if It wont allow me to really game.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Monday, January 19, 2015
Broken.
Some nights are harder than others. Some nights Im fine. I hang out in mumble with friends, play video games on my Xbox, maybe watch a friend stream some. When I get tired I go to sleep and just try to not think about anything.
Other nights, well, other nights are hard. Those nights I lay there, thoughts racing through my head. I lay there thinking about every stupid thing I've ever done. I think about the people I cared about and lost. About whether or not people actually like me. Whether they actually care about me at all. I lay there and remember, I'm broken.
It's an ugly and horrible term. One that I would never use to refer to another person, not in my lifetime. But it's the only term I can think of that describes me and who I am. Broken. Not shattered, at least not yet. But broken.
I've been broken for a while now. For years. Ever since I was at least thirteen. I was diagnosed with depression then, the doctor thinking it was just onset by my hormones as I started puberty. He said I would grow out of it. I didn't, I fell deeper down that rabbit hole as they say. My dad and most of my family pushed me away when I looked for someone to help. They thought I was looking for attention, thought I was faking just because I wanted to stand out and be different. "Just be happy" they would say "you have nothing to be sad about". So I just pulled back deeper into myself feeling unloved and like an outsider. At fourteen, I tried killing myself for the first time. At that point, I thought it was the only way to get the feelings to stop.My mom found me, and she managed to save me. It woke her up, gave me someone to talk to and for the next few years I was ok.
The depression that the doctor said I would grow out of started to consume me. It got to a point where those horrible voices talked much louder than the ones that people around me. I was worthless, hopeless, I should die, no one cared. They screamed at me on a daily basis and no matter what I did they wouldn't stop. I couldn't take anti-depression meds because they made me violently ill, so I had to learn to live with the crushing weight. I was shattered then, horribly and completely. I wanted out. I tried to kill myself two more times after my first attempt. I'm at a point of my life where I can admit that now, and I feel like it might help if I do admit it.
I met people in WoW that helped put me back together, and although the I'm no longer shattered, I'm still Broken. Still horribly and completely broken. I'm attempting to get to a place where I'm better, a place where I can close my eyes at night and not fear my own inner demons coming for me. It's what I want, but there are nights. Nights like tonight where I highly doubt that I'll ever be put back together. I try to patch myself up, I fight back my darkness with humor and puns. I try to forget, try to push away the dark voices by talking louder. But still, no matter what I do. I'm still Broken.
Undeniably and completely Broken.
Other nights, well, other nights are hard. Those nights I lay there, thoughts racing through my head. I lay there thinking about every stupid thing I've ever done. I think about the people I cared about and lost. About whether or not people actually like me. Whether they actually care about me at all. I lay there and remember, I'm broken.
It's an ugly and horrible term. One that I would never use to refer to another person, not in my lifetime. But it's the only term I can think of that describes me and who I am. Broken. Not shattered, at least not yet. But broken.
I've been broken for a while now. For years. Ever since I was at least thirteen. I was diagnosed with depression then, the doctor thinking it was just onset by my hormones as I started puberty. He said I would grow out of it. I didn't, I fell deeper down that rabbit hole as they say. My dad and most of my family pushed me away when I looked for someone to help. They thought I was looking for attention, thought I was faking just because I wanted to stand out and be different. "Just be happy" they would say "you have nothing to be sad about". So I just pulled back deeper into myself feeling unloved and like an outsider. At fourteen, I tried killing myself for the first time. At that point, I thought it was the only way to get the feelings to stop.My mom found me, and she managed to save me. It woke her up, gave me someone to talk to and for the next few years I was ok.
The depression that the doctor said I would grow out of started to consume me. It got to a point where those horrible voices talked much louder than the ones that people around me. I was worthless, hopeless, I should die, no one cared. They screamed at me on a daily basis and no matter what I did they wouldn't stop. I couldn't take anti-depression meds because they made me violently ill, so I had to learn to live with the crushing weight. I was shattered then, horribly and completely. I wanted out. I tried to kill myself two more times after my first attempt. I'm at a point of my life where I can admit that now, and I feel like it might help if I do admit it.
I met people in WoW that helped put me back together, and although the I'm no longer shattered, I'm still Broken. Still horribly and completely broken. I'm attempting to get to a place where I'm better, a place where I can close my eyes at night and not fear my own inner demons coming for me. It's what I want, but there are nights. Nights like tonight where I highly doubt that I'll ever be put back together. I try to patch myself up, I fight back my darkness with humor and puns. I try to forget, try to push away the dark voices by talking louder. But still, no matter what I do. I'm still Broken.
Undeniably and completely Broken.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)