An Open Letter

I wake up and feel like shit, but even though I know I should sleep I can’t bring myself to give up having free time to unwind. When I go to bed, my free time ends. And I don’t want that, so I end up staying up longer than I should be. I was almost falling asleep on the ride home, and I was sleep-deprived tweaking while playing with friends. I really need to figure something out.

One day you won’t be able to anymore. Nothing new will be introduced there – you may find some old relic that you didn’t know about, or hear a story about them, but nothing new will be introduced. There’s some limit to your interactions with them from then on. Memories also will fade, so you are slowly losing that part of them too. The scariest part is that this could happen at any time. I think about how my grandma died without ever resolving things with Mama. She intentionally chose to end it, and my mom will never be able to get that closure from her. There were so many things left unsaid. I think that’s an incredible weight that can’t ever really be undone or lifted, just lessened. My own death hasn’t ever really scared me, but the death of others does.

I hung out with A today because he was in town, and we ended up getting lunch, bowling, and then racing at K1. I had a blast, and I especially loved go-karting. I’ve kinda looked into racing to replace that need for speed, since I no longer think it’s responsible to get a motorcycle. I decided that the cost of being in an accident would inhibit every other part of life that I enjoy, and so it wasn’t worth the risk. But racing is really fun, no such thing as a speed limit there. I want to look into it more if I can.

I woke up horribly depressed from yesterday. I didn’t have the energy to get up or do anything, but because Hash needed to be taken out and fed, I got up. I ended up going to get food nearby, and didn’t feel shit. I didn’t want to just go home and bed rot, so I decided to drive to get boba, and halfway there I realized I’m not going to enjoy it and just waste more money, but I could go to a movie theater. I went to downtown Sunnyvale, and ended up in a very fancy AMC and watched the first movie that showed up – A quiet place: day one. Turns out that movie is horror, and also a prequel (for a movie I didn’t watch). I got jump scared several times pretty bad (good), to the point I had to keep reminding myself to not interlock my fingers as I’d squeeze down too hard. After, I guess I had enough of a shock to finally cal a friend to talk about it. I only really thought about that because I saw a sign saying “It’s ok to reach out” while I was driving over. We talked for a while, and I felt better. I got some caffeine and then dragged myself to the gym, where I then worked out a bit, intense enough to feel a bit more better. I did finally get that boba, and by then I felt somewhat back to myself. I went home and took my meds, did my laundry, and played a new game (which I will not say yet, for reasons I will eventually disclose). I feel better.

I grew up always compared to my sister. My parents did it enough that the times when they didn’t, I did it for them. They always had the awareness to not say it for the big things, like not getting top 20 in high school, or getting into Berkeley, or not getting varsity tennis. But I compared myself for them, just the way they taught me. I will never be able not to believe that failure, because they never said it. I did, just like how I learned.

The only thing my father acknowledged was my successes. But whatever I did was never enough for him to be happy with me. I got perfect scores in courses, took on obscene workloads, and won competitions, none of it mattered. All I ever got was “good job.” in a monotone voice. No eye contact either. It felt like it was always some consolation prize. It didn’t matter what I did, what I won, what I worked hard for. It was always a monotone statement said as an obligation.

Today hurt me a lot, because of those prior scars. But whenever I play with my friends, it doesn’t really matter what I do but it’s the same. Other than S, they don’t cheer for me when I do well, or even say anything if I am happy for myself. Today I had some of the best games of my life, my aim isn’t great so playing Cassidy was out of the norm – but I was doing INCREDIBLY well, hitting some of the best shots of my life. In one game I had more damage than the other DPS and tank combined, and even when I said I was doing the best I’ve ever done, silence. Not a single person was happy for me. But these people are also the ones to instantly jump at whenever I make a mistake. Without fail. The same condescending tone, like they’ve been waiting for me to fuck up. It destroys me slowly from the inside, only your mistakes pointed out and never anything else. They usually also shit on me when I’m happy for myself and say something. I could hit a full team shatter, get play of the game, and either complete silence or “eh, I would have done better”, or some other comment just to steal my joy.

I feel like it’s the same thing as my dad. Nothing I can do is good enough, but whenever I make a mistake they will never forget that. I hate sharing achievements because no one is ever fucking happy for me. I carefully guard the things I care about because I won’t get any empathy if I say them.

Rant over, I just wanted to get this out somehow. I’m sad because things won’t change with these friends, but I’d rather be strong enough to be fine with friends putting me down. I will say I do wish I had more friends to play with that felt like teammates, not enemies sometimes. I wish they noticed how often I consciously try to gas them up or hype them up. I just wish I had the same back.

I’ve somewhat found a routine. I work, come home, give Hash food, go to the gym, come back and I have 2-3 hours to play games and then time for bed. I’m almost too busy to struggle or think about other things, and it’s almost peaceful.

Swarm was out on the PBE, so me and T planned to play it today. We just beat the entire campaign on normal difficulty and had a great time. I told him in as many ways as I could think of to get cancer, solely because he got lucky and I didn’t on the last stage. I’m so thankful I met him, along with my other friends. I think these people know me best, and I also know myself through them. I am so grateful.

I like tank and support, but I don’t enjoy DPS. The reason why is because I feel like I don’t have control. Sometimes an enemy team will have some composition that just stomps my hero pool, or the enemy is just flat-out better. On tank I have options, on support I have a few less, but on DPS I just feel helpless. There is nothing I can do, and that feeling destroys me. Whenever I feel like there is nothing I can do on a character, that character gets almost sealed in my mind. It feels like something has been solved, and all roads lead to failure. And because it feels like there is no way to win, I lose all confidence in the character. In tank or support, I feel like I can point the finger somewhere else to know that I am not fighting an impossible battle, but on DPS I know that I am the issue. And so I have to face the fact that I am not good enough at DPS. And that feeling hollows me.

I had therapy after 2 weeks, since last week I had to cancel due to moving + work. I’ve found that I am too busy to even feel depressed/anxious, and so I’m not really sure what’s going on up there. I think things will settle down a bit, but hopefully I figure that out soon enough. I want to be able to just have a degen summer to some extent, but maybe this is a better balance where I don’t just burn out of gaming.

S met S and L for the first time today, we all played a bit of lethal company. Ironically, I was a little bit worried because I wasn’t exactly sure how tolerant either side would be. I think I was afraid for nothing, but I am a little bit afraid of any possible crossover episodes. I guess my fear is S’s lack of a filter and his honesty. Those are some of the things I love about him the most, as I know that he will give me the respect of being transparent with me about his thoughts. I also have a lot of trust in his character, as he is one of the most consistent in his beliefs people I’ve ever met. He doesn’t get swept up by trends or fads for activism, but genuinely believes in certain causes and is willing to make determined stands or compromises for them. I remember how he protested Taiwan’s oppression for years, way after it had subsided in the media. I also know that he is an incredibly loving and accepting person.

But I also am aware of the fact that he can be out of pocket, or say things that are not socially acceptable. I don’t actually disagree with the things that he says, as he has thought through the implications and meanings behind the things he says and has a valid rationale behind them. But also I get how it can be jarring or abrasive to others, as I think people typically who grow up in a bubble tie in connotations to words incredibly quickly. I guess that’s what my fear is. S is a great person, and I’m afraid of that being glossed over by something he says that gets taken the wrong way.

I guess I enjoy having this problem in some sense, as this means I am a multifaceted person and am not just living in one bubble. For all of the consequences of my upbringing, I am incredibly happy for being raised online, with how diverse of a group of people I’ve been able to be friends with.