pilgrimage to the future
At the end of last quarter I was working on the business plan for my entrepreneurship class. I'd waited too long to start and missed the due date, but I kept working on it. More days passed, but I kept working on it. It was becoming fairly obvious I wouldn't get much credit for it after this much time, and probably wouldn't pass the class, but I kept working on it.
My choice of business was independent game design, you see, which I'd been thinking of going into someday. And my product schedule consisted of three games I'd already been thinking of making, someday. The business plan assignment finally made me take a serious look at those thoughts, and start planning how to make them reality, all under the guise of a school assignment.
If someone were to design the one ultimate assignment that tapped into my every interest and every weakness, trying to be the most distracting, most enthralling, most impossible-to-complete-in-any-reasonable-time period assignment I could ever face, this would be it. With the exception of financial analysis, every part of working on the business plan was extremely interesting, including research, even when it wasn't particularly fun. The result was I would spend hours if not an entire day having completely forgotten this was a school assignment that needed to be turned in, instead completely absorbed in finding out how this hypothetical game design career could actually come to be.
And like I said, it wasn't always fun. I exhausted myself most days. But I kept going because it had value to me besides entertainment. You may not realize how significant that was for me. Value had exclusively been a measure of fun for what felt like a very long time. But now, for the first time in more than a year, I was actually doing something important.
Not that I hadn't been assuming school was important that entire time. I had in fact been assuming that with great effort. Assuming, because that's all I could do. It didn't feel important. It didn't come naturally to me at all that my life should depend on undergoing three month periods of extended evaluation disguised as education so I could eventually get a piece of paper employers insist I have before they will believe me when I say I'm not an idiot. I know that all that is the case, I even know why and that it makes sense from the employer's perspective, but that perspective isn't mine, and it doesn't feel right or important to me.
But the business plan did. I didn't have to assume; I wasn't even aware of it immediately. Something actually felt important for once. Made the future something I didn't reflexively avoid thinking about; to the contrary, suddenly I couldn't stop. It was feasible, being an independent game designer. I wasn't just guessing or hoping anymore, I'd done the research, it was feasible. Not simple, or easy, or remotely guaranteed, but feasible, and everything that I wanted. The work. The rewards (not monetary). The culture. That was the future I wanted. I have a natural talent for programming, but my life is in creativity, in art. I'd already partly realized that when I started writing Veil, but now I realize it fully. And the game will be but one of my mediums, though it is certainly my favorite.
I will need money, of course. I've calculated the expenses for my first game at $1200 so far. The logical course would seem to be to remain in school, get the degree, and get a good job I can use to fund my business. In most circumstances that probably would be a good plan. But in mine, there's not a chance in Hell. For more than a year I tried to succeed in school despite how little I cared about it. Last quarter with the help of my therapist I finally managed to put in a real effort. I attended the vast majority of classes, kept track of assignments, completed them, and handed them in on time. It was extremely difficult, and the immediate results not very satisfactory as I still only managed to get work done at the last second. This despite the fact I wouldn't let myself do any of the things I really wanted to do until my work was finished. Things like write, or play games, or read any of the new DnD supplements I have.
Forbidding those things, rather than help keep me on task, just allowed me to be distracted by much smaller things. Things that would usually be swept aside for the sake of the stuff I've forbidden, and seem deceptively simple and innocent and unlikely to take me off track. Things like spending a "quick" moment to look at the swords on X replica weapons site so I can find one that fits a character in one of my stories. This leads to looking for weapons for every character, and then armor too, and then an entire wardrobe, and a suitably "wizardy" ensemble for myself as well. Then maybe I fire up Photoshop and try to do a photomanip of a character or two.
My biggest problem is the inability to stop in the middle of something. I did desperately want to get my work done, but I could only think of doing it once I was finished with what I'd started, even if what I'd started was completely useless. Only when I was truly out of time could I get to real work. The result of this was many days that felt doubly wasted - I didn't do any work or anything I actually wanted to do. And I went the entire quarter without writing anything - an entire quarter of not feeling alive.
Last quarter was a truly miserable experience. At the time I thought it was worth it, though. Because, as pointless as school felt, I had managed to make myself believe that I should be able to succeed, and whether or not I did would determine my value as a person and what hope I could have for the future. But I have thankfully realized that is wrong now. The business plan, and Veil (I am working on chapter 12), and my job history have shown me I can succeed at the things I believe are important (unless I'm not on medication, anyway, which was the cause of my downfall at previous jobs). School is no longer one of those things, and hasn't been for a while. It's really no wonder I've been having trouble. And I no longer care about proving myself in that setting. Suffice it to say with this mindset trying to do any more school would just be even more difficult and miserable.
The degree would be helpful, but it is not worth the time or effort it would take me to get it. Time that would be spent without any progress on the things I actually want to do with my life. And, higher salary aside, I really don't care about the prestige of my day job. My self-worth comes from being creative, and nowhere else.
So, yeah, I dropped out of college. If you hadn't figured that out by now.
My choice of business was independent game design, you see, which I'd been thinking of going into someday. And my product schedule consisted of three games I'd already been thinking of making, someday. The business plan assignment finally made me take a serious look at those thoughts, and start planning how to make them reality, all under the guise of a school assignment.
If someone were to design the one ultimate assignment that tapped into my every interest and every weakness, trying to be the most distracting, most enthralling, most impossible-to-complete-in-any-reasonable-time period assignment I could ever face, this would be it. With the exception of financial analysis, every part of working on the business plan was extremely interesting, including research, even when it wasn't particularly fun. The result was I would spend hours if not an entire day having completely forgotten this was a school assignment that needed to be turned in, instead completely absorbed in finding out how this hypothetical game design career could actually come to be.
And like I said, it wasn't always fun. I exhausted myself most days. But I kept going because it had value to me besides entertainment. You may not realize how significant that was for me. Value had exclusively been a measure of fun for what felt like a very long time. But now, for the first time in more than a year, I was actually doing something important.
Not that I hadn't been assuming school was important that entire time. I had in fact been assuming that with great effort. Assuming, because that's all I could do. It didn't feel important. It didn't come naturally to me at all that my life should depend on undergoing three month periods of extended evaluation disguised as education so I could eventually get a piece of paper employers insist I have before they will believe me when I say I'm not an idiot. I know that all that is the case, I even know why and that it makes sense from the employer's perspective, but that perspective isn't mine, and it doesn't feel right or important to me.
But the business plan did. I didn't have to assume; I wasn't even aware of it immediately. Something actually felt important for once. Made the future something I didn't reflexively avoid thinking about; to the contrary, suddenly I couldn't stop. It was feasible, being an independent game designer. I wasn't just guessing or hoping anymore, I'd done the research, it was feasible. Not simple, or easy, or remotely guaranteed, but feasible, and everything that I wanted. The work. The rewards (not monetary). The culture. That was the future I wanted. I have a natural talent for programming, but my life is in creativity, in art. I'd already partly realized that when I started writing Veil, but now I realize it fully. And the game will be but one of my mediums, though it is certainly my favorite.
I will need money, of course. I've calculated the expenses for my first game at $1200 so far. The logical course would seem to be to remain in school, get the degree, and get a good job I can use to fund my business. In most circumstances that probably would be a good plan. But in mine, there's not a chance in Hell. For more than a year I tried to succeed in school despite how little I cared about it. Last quarter with the help of my therapist I finally managed to put in a real effort. I attended the vast majority of classes, kept track of assignments, completed them, and handed them in on time. It was extremely difficult, and the immediate results not very satisfactory as I still only managed to get work done at the last second. This despite the fact I wouldn't let myself do any of the things I really wanted to do until my work was finished. Things like write, or play games, or read any of the new DnD supplements I have.
Forbidding those things, rather than help keep me on task, just allowed me to be distracted by much smaller things. Things that would usually be swept aside for the sake of the stuff I've forbidden, and seem deceptively simple and innocent and unlikely to take me off track. Things like spending a "quick" moment to look at the swords on X replica weapons site so I can find one that fits a character in one of my stories. This leads to looking for weapons for every character, and then armor too, and then an entire wardrobe, and a suitably "wizardy" ensemble for myself as well. Then maybe I fire up Photoshop and try to do a photomanip of a character or two.
My biggest problem is the inability to stop in the middle of something. I did desperately want to get my work done, but I could only think of doing it once I was finished with what I'd started, even if what I'd started was completely useless. Only when I was truly out of time could I get to real work. The result of this was many days that felt doubly wasted - I didn't do any work or anything I actually wanted to do. And I went the entire quarter without writing anything - an entire quarter of not feeling alive.
Last quarter was a truly miserable experience. At the time I thought it was worth it, though. Because, as pointless as school felt, I had managed to make myself believe that I should be able to succeed, and whether or not I did would determine my value as a person and what hope I could have for the future. But I have thankfully realized that is wrong now. The business plan, and Veil (I am working on chapter 12), and my job history have shown me I can succeed at the things I believe are important (unless I'm not on medication, anyway, which was the cause of my downfall at previous jobs). School is no longer one of those things, and hasn't been for a while. It's really no wonder I've been having trouble. And I no longer care about proving myself in that setting. Suffice it to say with this mindset trying to do any more school would just be even more difficult and miserable.
The degree would be helpful, but it is not worth the time or effort it would take me to get it. Time that would be spent without any progress on the things I actually want to do with my life. And, higher salary aside, I really don't care about the prestige of my day job. My self-worth comes from being creative, and nowhere else.
So, yeah, I dropped out of college. If you hadn't figured that out by now.