By Klei 8 Comments
Please excuse my major deficit of the English skill, I am just a simple french-speaking Canadian, so please, bear with my poor syntax.
Back in early 2007, I was in a pretty dark time of my life. As a 20 year old, I had just dropped out of school, the equivalent of your police academy, to the great despair of my parents. At this time, I felt like my life needed to be something greater, something better, but I couldn't afford the effort to actually do anything. So what did I do to feel greater? I basically created shitstorms everywhere I could. I would lie to friends just to make me look more grandiose, I would steal money from my parents to make stupid purchases, clothes, a brand new PS3, and so on. Why? Just for the sake of feeling more important than I would normally be. And if that meant to be stuck in endless cycles of problems that I would create on my own, then so be it.
I was a mess. And there's little else to say about that fact. I was a fucking mess. And of course, dark thoughts crossed my mind. Ending my own life was one of them.
But there was one thing that kept me from actually doing it; girls. You see, I'm not the greatest looking guy on Earth, but I did manage to meet a couple of girls along the way who thought I was interesting. Of course I was, with all the lies I could spin about myself. Back in the days, we didn't use Facebook, so it was hell of a lot easier to just make up shit about who you were without people having a backdoor access to your life to confirm the credibility of your sayings.
So, there's this one girl I met back then. We met on myspace, then met in real life, and the relationship kicked off from there. Relationship is actually not the right word, but we'll call it like that anyways. When I met her, I initially knew I had no interest in her personality whatsoever, all I wanted was, well, you know. She had big boobs too; it helped. I had to endure her horrible personality just to made sure I'd end up getting laid a couple of times per week. You could say how much of a dishonest jerk I was, and to tell the truth, I totally was! She liked a guy that did not exist, I was just a walking, empty physical shell, who would spit out fake shit about me just to make myself look more impressive.
Turns out, the girl used me as much as I used her. She would still go on dates behind my back, meet up with other dudes and probably banging them. How did I figured out? She left her myspace page opened on my personal computer, so I did some digging. Was I hurt? Not at all, and actually, it made me come up clean with her. At the time, she was sleeping in my bed, so I woke her up, and we had a long, long talk. In the end, we both disliked each other, but somehow, we stayed with each other. Probably because we both were alone.
On my end though, I realized how my life was... wrong. How I was constantly disappointing everybody around me, friends, parents alike. People started to just, leave me. Friends wouldn't be friends anymore, and so on. And I couldn't blame them. Thing is, it made me realize how low I had fallen. So what else can you do, in that situation? Either you remain there and die sadly, or you crawl back up. And I did.
That girl I was telling you guys about? Well, one morning, in March, we were at the mall, because I had promised her to buy her some clothes for some reason. It was also the release date of God of War 2. So right before our visit to the mall, I stopped at the game store to buy the long-awaited sequel to God of War. Turns out, I forgot my debit card at GameStop, and couldn't pay for her stuff when we had arrived at her favorite clothing store. So we had to leave the mall and drive back to the GameStop near my house, with me puzzled, and her super angry. In the car, she started calling me names, telling me how much if a dirtbag I was. And you know what she did?
She punched me in the face. Twice. While I was driving. With a bleeding nose, I gazed at her emptily and stopped the car on the side of the highway, and kicked her out of my car. Oh, she tried to resist, saying she was sorry and shit, but I was like Terminator; I didn't care about her arguments. I forced her out of the car, and drove away.
On my way back to my home, I knew I had lost the only person, even though a shitty one, I had in my life. I was heartbroken, hurt, and angry. But still... I had God of War 2. How lame is that? To actually think that a video game is the only thing you can rely on? Well, I did. I came back home, and instead of crying my life away, I started playing God of War 2 and murdering fools. And goddamn, that felt good. And during that moment, where I felt at peace, where I actually felt good, my brain took advantage of that moment and made me realize that I seriously needed help.
That evening, I crawled out of my parents basement, and looked upon their disappointed face and I told my mom :
'' Mom, I fucked up. I need to talk to you. I need help. ''
And from that moment, my life went better. I told her all of my very deep problems, which are way too personal to voice out here, but turns out, my shitty life was a lot shittier than I thought. I had real problems, underneath all the lies I had told, that made me act that way. So, after coming clean with her, she told me she'd get me to a psychiatrist. And she did.
A couple of days later, I'd be sitting in the psychiatrist office, telling her about my problems. I was diagnosed to be under a heavy depression, deep anxiety problems that came from a sad childhood trauma. And seriously, during those appointments with the psychiatrist, I would feel like shit. But oddly enough, the single beacon of light that I had was God of War 2. I would tell myself, '' come on man, cheer up, you'll play GoW2 right when this is over ''. And it helped me through. Funny thing? I played and beat GoW2 over and over again. I played it like an addict needing his drug. Although, for me it wasn't a drug, it was more like... a way to purge out all the poison I had in my body. I could relate to Kratos. Him, fighting like a devil against all, overwhelming odds, although at the time, I couldn't really see it.
One week later, the psychiatrist put me under heavy medication.
I was now alive, yet, super weak and on medication. I had finally come to realize who I was, and what I had become. I had become an horrible person, but I wanted to restart anew. That day, I swore to myself that I would be and remain the ordinary guy I always were. That I would no longer sell myself as the super-interesting dude that I really wasn't. On that very night, a girl came to me on myspace ( which was cool, back in those days ). She seemed interested in me, and I let her in. She wanted to meet me, and we did. Although I took an oath with myself; to never, ever lie again.
So there I was, on that thursday after-noon, meeting with this girl in a mall. I presented her the normal, unoriginal guy that I really was. I didn't tell her a single lie. After our meeting, I offered her to come to my place, and she accepted. Turns out, I played God of War 2 in front of her. Although she had no interest in video games, she still let me play and tried to find something cool about it. I would tell her how this game made me feel... alive. Of course, she didn't really understand how I felt about it, nor did I at the time, but she acknowledged it, for some reason.
Let's be clear on something now; I wasn't psycho over God of War 2. I wasn't hungering for murder. It was just that one only game I would play, even though at the time I would buy almost everything released on the gaming market.
Anyways, I needed one year and four months to break away from the medication, during which I built myself back. During which I stayed true to myself. I even made new, normal friends. Last time I saw my psychiatrist, she gave me a pat on the back and a thumbs up. I felt bad for the trusts i've broken, for the friends I've angered with my lies, and especially my mom and dad, whom I heavily disappointed. Since that day, I feel very sorry for all of this, and probably, always will.
And five years later, we're still together, me and my girlfriend. Five years later, I've become a successful writer ( in french ) using my imagination not to spin off lies, but to create living, breathing world in which my readers can lose themselves. My parents eventually forgave me, and I managed, years later, to win their trust back. They're proud of me now, instead of being that shameful son of theirs. I now live with my girlfriend, and plan to have a baby someday soon. I'm now doing book tours, and signing autographs. I've become that person I always tried to be. I've become that guy. Funny thing? I don't even want to be that guy, I just want to build my little life, with her, and write books with my cat, Horace, purring right next to me.
Thanks for reading, and sorry for my bad English. This blog would have been tons better in French, but whatever, it'll do. And thank you, Kratos.