The Downward Spiral

Being fatter than one used to be is depressing. My plumpage started with the first highly addictive game I picked up. It was called Realms of Despair.

I poured every ounce of myself into it. As a young man, I played every damn role-playing game that existed. Final Fantasy, Secret of Mana, Musashi, Parasite Eve, Chrono Trigger, Secret of Evermore, and on and on. I found Realms of Despair, henceforth referred to as The Crack, after watching a random TV show that exhibited a text based video game. I was drawn to it's glory like a moth to flame. I did some research and what I found amazed me. A free multiplayer fantasy world where I could experience first-hand becoming a mysterious mage, a terrible warrior, a backstabbing rogue, or an angelic cleric. These kind of text-based experiences are called Multi-User Dungeons or MUDs. I became Cauthon, Elven Ranger.

I stopped going out as much. My girlfriend, who was always a top priority, became a nuisance. Due in part to my negligence, the relationship culminated with her in bed with two men. Yes, it was flattering that it took two men to replace me, but mildy disturbing. Of course there is more to it than this. Her alcoholism for example was also a key factor, but this topic is for another time. Needless to say, this game was pivotal in my life.

Fortunately, beer and tits held my attention better than a game could and I stopped playing. The next several years were defining and set the foundation for who I am growing into. During this time, I realized the sky was the limit. I could do anything I wanted if I only had the balls to go for it. Total freedom can only be achieved if one is unafraid of consequences. Please understand that I am not condoning being irresponsible or disregarding cause and effect. True freedom is when you ACCEPT the consequences, not ignore or run from them. Example: Say, I find a girl attractive. My choices are 1. Let her know how I feel and see what happens. - or - 2. Punk out and never find out. There are two consequences to the first choice. I will succeed or fail. If I go for it and she digs me then A-fuckin-men. If I go for it and she dogs me then boo-fuckin-hoo. I accepted the consequence and moved on.

The worst thing in the world is regret. It is unfathomable to me why people would conciously choose not to find out a result of a choice. In the event she doesn't dig you, wouldn't you want to know why so you could fix the dealbreaker that ruined your chance for the next time? How will you ever become more than you are if you refuse to take chances and challenge yourself?

I went to college and it was more of the same. People were amazed by the things I did. I was held in awe because I was able to take chances on experiences everyone wanted to have, but for whatever reason were held back. I was unafraid of consequences. I accepted my choices. I knew if something went wrong, it was my fault. In realizing this, I became my own master. If there was something I wanted to do, I did it without hesitation and with very few exceptions. Please understand that in certain cases, where I did not particularly like the outcomes of a choice, I would choose the choice most beneficial to me. I was not impulsive to the point of stupidity.

I was on top of the world. I had girl after girl, drank beer after beer, and did stupid thing after stupid thing for no other reason than I chose to. Also, I was slowly growing up with the help and patience of others. I was becoming less selfish, more caring, and a little less crazy. I was incremently becoming an adult.

I picked the game up again. I'm not real sure why, because my life was on track. My guess is that as my lifestyle became less audacious I needed something to occupy me. Or maybe it was my surreal reality I was addicted to and I needed a replacement reality to fill the boredom of getting old. Who knows? Suffice it to say, the pattern began again. Less partying, less schoolwork, and less time with my wife. As I got older and things were getting harder, I played more. I created a downward spiral effect. I wasn't physical in any manifestation. I blew up like a fucking balloon. I was beautiful, but now I have small man boobs. I got depressed. I played more. Fear set in. I played more. Every choice had the unacceptable consequence of taking me away from my game, away from the reality where I was safe. I took no chances. I got larger. I played more. I had become the exact opposite of all I held true to my heart. I betrayed myself. I played more.

For five years this spiral continued. A few times I was able to come up for air, but the game was always there pulling me down like a pair of cement shoes. Everytime I had a glimmer of hope, the game released a shiny new weapon for me to get or my unknowing, online friends would be strengthening the chains of my bondage. Due to a series of fortunate events, I broke free of this cycle. I have not been here a lot in the past five years, but I am here now. It saddens me to think of moments I may have missed with family and friends, but I never have to feel guilty again. I am free.

Now that I am Me again, every pound that comes off is a pledge that lends credence to the fact I am more than I ever was. Not the child I was in college, but not the bum I have been in adulthood. I am stronger, wiser, more resilient, and ready once again take on the world.