It's one of the nights (or early mornings, if you prefer) where I feel compelled to create something, but I don't really know where to start. So here I am, after 1 A.M., listening to Matisyahu's One Day (which is a beautiful tune, by the way) trying to figure out what to say. And the only thing I can really think of at the moment is what I've been going through lately. If you can bear to stick with me through something insanely personal, I invite you to read on.
So, lately I've been doing a lot of self-analyzing, and I finally had to face the fact that I've been holding myself back in every aspect of my life since I was a kid. I've known this for awhile, but I could never bring myself to say it out loud, and I never went into it with anyone until recently. In the past few weeks, I've been hit especially hard by self-doubt; it got so bad that I finally had no choice but to face up to my problems. This might seem painfully vague, but I'm going somewhere with this, I promise.
It's no secret that I hate to lose. At pretty much anything, really, and to the point where I tend to shy away from any games based on luck, since mine tends to be terrible. Loss, for me, turns to self-loathing in the blink of an eye and puts me in a terrible mood, making me wonder to this day why I thought moving into competitive gaming was a good idea, but I digress.
Let me step back for a sec and talk about my past a bit. I'm not going to go into my heavy religious background, (even though it's very relevant) because that gets really complicated and it would eat up a whole blog post by itself. For reference, my religious experiences as a kid were almost a mirror of Wes Craven's, if you know anything about his background. So, even as a preteen, I hated the idea of losing, which sucked because I was never the fastest, smartest, or any other kind of "est." I had an overactive imagination, and that was about it. I was also saw shades of the "We're All Winners" movement in my childhood, which even at that age didn't feel right ... but you'd best believe I embraced the hell out of it because I was suddenly immune to loserdom.
Then, when I was 15, I finally decided to stop being lazy and learn guitar. Within 2 days, I'd taught myself to play songs, and within another 2 weeks or so, I was writing my own music; it just came naturally to me. And I loved every minute of it (in part because there was no "losing") because it gave me the freedom every teenager wants in their life. I was able to pour my heart out into the various notes and lyrics and no one could tell me I was wrong; it helped me explore religion and injustice in a way you just can't be taught.
I found Robert Jordan around that time, too. Read The Eye of the World for the first time and it changed the way I looked at Fantasy, but I was still too intimidated to try and write anything like that, and not even because I thought it would take too long or that I couldn't finish a book, but because I was afraid it wouldn't be good enough. And there was the fear of failure again, holding me back. For some reason, I was free with music and lyrics, but fiction ... well that was elusive for some reason. That fear held me back until NaNoWriMo 2010, when I finally pushed back my fear long enough to crank out my first book, within 10 days. I was on such an emotional high that I didn't know what to do with myself, and that last a few weeks. Then, when it came time to hit the second book, I hit another road block that slowed me to a crawl. What if this one couldn't live up to the last one? What if I can't reach a satisfying conclusion before the end of the 3rd book? What if everyone hates it? What if no one ever reads my work again because of it? I managed to finish the book, but tore myself apart in the process.
So, while that was going on, I had a few other issues going on, but the one I'm going to focus on now is Street Fighter 4. Fighting games were all but dead, then this game hit the States in '09 and reignited the spark for everyone, and even pulled me in ... for a few weeks. See, I picked up some of the basics of the game pretty quick (I could throw out fireballs, dragon punches and tatsumakis on command) and I was one of the best of our small group in the beginning. But, after a few weeks of practicing, the other guys got better and I didn't. I didn't practice, so I didn't progress, it's that simple. And when I stopped winning, I just stopped playing. That lasted for a few years, even though I loved the game; I gave up something I loved because I couldn't hold that L. Looking back on it now, as I progress in the competitive scene, young Cam makes me sick because of the solid 2 years of practice he lost me. But, you might be asking what brought me back.... The truth is, one day it just dawned on me that the reason I hadn't practiced in the beginning was because that would've upped my stakes. In short, if I didn't practice, I had an excuse for my losses, whereas, if I actually tried to get better, I still might not be good enough. I might fail.
The day that finally dawned on me, I wanted to bash my head against the doorframe for being so stupid. I immediately put money back to buy a fightstick and started working to get better ... and I did. I was leagues beyond the guys that used to beat me, and it felt great. I watched videos, I went into training mode, I played CONSTANTLY, and it all helped me grow. For the first time in my life, I wasn't actively running away from something just because it didn't come naturally and I might fail; I was facing my demons and kicking their asses. But, even that didn't last, because of course I met new players, and they were better than me, which only served to suddenly remind me that I was years behind in training. I might never catch up to them! What difference does it make if I'm leveling up now, if they're just gonna keep doing the same? In other words, my self-pity took over again, repeatedly kicking me in the balls. I thought I was never going to beat this thing.
So, fast-forward to now and what's changed? Well, for one, I've been fortunate enough to be surrounded by people who believed in me when I sure as hell didn't believe in myself. My wife, Anna, she's been great. My bros, John, Rickman, Chris, Andy, they're all irreplaceable, and I wouldn't be here without every one of them. But, in the past year or two there's been someone else pushing me, and I know he never knew how deep my issues ran. He's been more than just my Fighting Game Guru; he's been a life teacher for me, whether he realized it or not. Do I still struggle with my doubts? Yes. But it's getting better, especially now that I'm finally able to admit it. What do you know ... admitting your problem really does kickstart the healing process.
There's a saying I've heard a few times that goes something like: "The difference between a master and a student is the master has failed more times than the student has tried." It's something that really resonates with me at this stage in my life. There are still times (more often than not) that I hate losing, but the loss doesn't define me anymore. I'm not afraid of failing anymore, and it feels great to be able to say that. I let fear, self-doubt, self-pity and my fragile ego hold me back for the better part of my life, all because I thought the only thing that mattered was making people view me as a "winner." There's more to life than that, kiddos, take it from me.
I hope this post actually made some sense. I'm super tired and I'm not even going to spell check this thing before throwing it up, so there ya go. This will be as honest a post as you can get, and if it helps someone with something they're going through, that's awesome. If not, it's certainly a load off my chest, so thanks for taking the time to read. But before we get out of here, I want to take a sec to say a few more words about the friends I mentioned above.
Anna: You're the most amazing wife a man (or woman) could ask for. Thanks for having faith in me when I did nothing to deserve it.
John, Rickman & Chris: Y'know, despite the fact that frat boys have hijacked the word "bro" and bastardized it, I knew you guys before that, so screw it, it's still our word. And it's a word I don't use lightly. We might not be blood, but we're still brothers, and I love you guys.
Andy: Thanks pushing me while I was still a teenager. Without you, I wouldn't have been able to write that first book. Here's to finishing the 3rd one (which I could use a cover for, but we'll talk about that later) and finishing step 1 of that journey.
Isaac: I saved you last for a reason, big guy. No one's had a bigger influence on me in the past year than you have, and I've grown a lot because of it. You're a killer mentor, and I want to say thanks for being patient with me, even when I acted like a brat. Not even sure you'll read this, but if you do, just know that I'm gonna be doing my best to keep growing and make you proud. And when I finally win my first major, you better be on stage to take the bow with me.
And that's it. I'm dozing here, so it's time to call it a night. If there's a moral to all of this, I'd say it's that whatever you're going through, don't be afraid to confide in someone and get it off your chest. Sometimes just saying it out loud makes the problem seem a lot smaller.
