This post got lenghty quick, perhaps a diff new user intro than is often here? :?
Hey all, first I wanted to point out this thing started in a seperate forum, in a topic about some unreleased 64 games, just wanted to point out my disdain for the game when this whole thing just kinda poured into the keyboard. Well, I won't expect you guys to read it all, def if its just too long or you'd rather not read about what I jabber about ( although I swear it's nothing explicit, don't think trainspotting, think TLC back when they were a goddamn medical information channel, and had programs that don't exploit those involved like other cable channels and reality shows. But here's spilled guts in the forum, I'd like to share a semi-short anecdote related between Die Hard games and a short moment that changed my outlook into something I'm grateful for. IF this is really not cool I'll edit it out, np :)
Well this night after I get Nakatomi Palace for pc, I drive home and install, rip, boot, etc, and I'll say this hopefully not to degrade my character here as I'm new, but this was years and years ago, past the addition of another year+ of sobriety attending a clinic helping me keep stable in recovery while I finish my comp prog degree and finish building back my life. Anyway here is a cap: My ritual around that time consisted of loading up on couple of dexxies (amphet), eat a bottle of dxm caps, and 30 minutes later slam a couple of stamps(ehhh...if you have to ask you shouldnt know).
Mind you this was prep for many nights and half being videogame all night marathons, and yet that night, I played for about an hour, couldn't stand the textures shine or the way the controls felt, or nearly ANYTHING dealing with cognitive input (pc and the grey matter in my noggin). I just couldnt finish any tasks, and it was almost like I was so bored and just annoyed I started getting very naseated, which would go away after walking away from the PC. It was only about 11pm approx so no chance to return it until tomorrow. Fighting the urge to spend a Friday with my brain free from any electronic distractions. The chemical ones just weren't working like I wanted, something that would always piss me off when it happened involved scoring the first fix of that evil shit (h). Like my opiod receptors were finally just up there throwing a riot worse than the ending of Natural Born Killers... slowly dawned on me no foreign chemicals were going to help this, least of all not abusing psychoactive ones. Finally 20 or so minutes after I stopped playing and sat there with nothing else planned, i was really too "electric"(hard to describe, just felt like my bedroom at the apt I lived in during this had too much shit that could find its way to my conciouss thoughts, stuff I had repressed and not learned to accept and let go yet. Not even maybe 10 minutes after that point it was unbearable at the level unable emotionally to handle the wave of pain I was feeling, like some bad nightmare but while in a waking state. To keep it short, I did something new. I went outside, laid in the grass, and just sobbed all my anger, boo hoos, and guilt all pent up, repeat until around sunrise and virtually total sobriety. Much more easy said in those sentences than it ever would have been, of course, but you couldn't convince me of anything I know now back then, if you paid me $1000.
Went inside to shower, flushed my stash away (worth ~$550...i look at it now that it was the first step to letting go, but the next morning first thought after i woke was on those bundles, and i was so "upset" i guess, leaving it feels like losing your first love, and ive heard that from enough old vets to believe it true. ended up puking up what the stomach had, until the liver took over, having to stare into the same spot. Definitely a place (mentally and physically) I'd rather convert to the Mormom Church than relive that scene...fuck!) Managed to brew some joe, drank about 2 cups to get my blood rushin before I jumped in the car to set off, cause I wasn't about to just let myself chicken shit out to turn around and forget going to detox.
Checked into inpatient detox clinic in own. Just to add if anyone wonders after the years not being explained, after detox my mind was ready but my body wasn't, and fought it, wasting around 8 months more of my time, although not completely because of hobbies from before (developed my chess strategy a lot, and started picking up my japanese vocal study to continue after mastering hiragana and katakana in high school, still rather wait for professional help with heavy duty kanji time; with c++ alternated day/night in free time, along with collecting vinyl records and not pawning them lol, top treasure ill claim atm is a 1st highway 61 revisited dylan w/ some pressing error that put the wrong take of i think from a buick 6...might be can't buy a thrill)... and even some I formed during those years to get me through the toughest of the tough. I've always been the same person deep in there somewhere. there was a year and a half of maintenance via a widely used med treatment some of you might have heard of.
Not sure if many people will read this but wanted to make my hello here a statement about second chances, blah blah, wanted to get some things off my chest as well, as I havn't exactly been social at all for most of this healing process. Gets lonely out here in the country sometimes, specially when my old man spins Harvest so much ;_;, but always have 2 or 3 old friends there, plus the folks. So with not many close people to get a lot I used to, or didn't even have, I'll write personal scratch, 20 pages in a straight session all night, not saying it's something to get me up in high spirits, but it sure helps me feels comfortable with the shit I do have to deal with. Also visit a few forums I dig here and there, dont post a whole lot, I just write A LOT when I do write. Need to start on memoirs about all the fucking insane situations others and myself stupidly put me in, for nothing in the real world.. Love this place and the people that make it, looking forward to the future posting among you all. And thanks for reading Chapter 1. haha
Ps: Forgot to mention the actual gaming related shit. -__- Ah, to put it simply, I was raised Intellivision II and x86, SNES w/ Mega Man X and Mortal Kombat at 5, Game Gear and 2 very shitty X-Men "games" broke my heart next year, until GameBoy Pocket & Contra III + Pokemon Blue helped nurse it back to better than new. Soon after, finally got the PSX I'd been wired for. I'll never forget begging for only two games: Final Fantasy VII (playing II for a year and a half and III for a few weekends via Blockbuster blew my mind WIDE fuckin' open, I will say that) and Parappa the Rapper. I swear there was a bit of magic in FF7 a few seconds after ripping that paper off...and then pure fire to the fuckin' balls, next game was Lost World: Jurrassic Park. I've pinpointed my life taking a turn for the worse around that moment, I speculate. Too much after those experiences, I will add that the Dreamcast has become the love of my life, just dont tell the SNES mini, especially after I cut those tabs out to play Rockman x2.All the indiv games I got in between never seemed to quite match those games that helped break virgin territory.
You'll have to excuse that above which exists alien to dialogue of any sane man, I've been awake roughly 42 hours brainstorming for a dev project I've been nurturing. Not uncommon for me to even surpass that long of sleep deprivation., but ~90% of the time, when I start to write sentences and build simple prose to get my point across like normal, it just gets lost and mixed all fucky. Time to rest and put all the cogs back in correct motion.
Originally Posted by graciano1337