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"I'm scared crapless"

I apologise for this, as this belongs in the life forum, but I can't post there at the moment, and I really need to write.

I've been concerned for the longest of times about what I could do in life. Computer games was never an option. I had to be a scientist, a vet... I needed business studies, two B's and a C. Even Key Skills is acceptable, come for an Open Day.

And twirling around in my head was this thought that perhaps all these grades, all these brochures that thousands of other kids will be looking at... "You're good at computers, why don't you study I.T. in college?"

And through all this time I've watched, learned, and pondered... but I've never questioned. I've never asked why.

Why exactly do we have to go into jobs like this, isn't there anything else?

I have a story that won't take too much of your time, some of you may have heard before.

It was on the verge of the beginning of the third chapter, if we say that the first is a story with no words... I was recovering from my suicide attempt, finally making peace with myself, but still with no idea if I was to live or die.

Blond haired doodlers surround me, asking what I want to be in life. I've never really taken it seriously, other than saying the obvious "alive" answer... and it now finally came to a Government scheme.

We tick boxes to see who we are, another of those "catagory B" things, where everybody can be narrowed down into groups. Hell, forgive me for thinking that perhaps we are that extra bit different, but it seems work does not comply with those rules. The leaders and the workers... nobody inbetween.

Tick boxes. 1 for "dislike the most" and 5 for "enjoy the most"... questions like "Working with animals", "Scrubing the feet of old people", "Wondering why you're sat behind a desk doing nothing for most of your life"...

29 smiles surround me, ticking in unison, asking what everyone else put.

Sorry, no... I don't want to bath old people. I don't have any concern with being outside or inside. I don't want to kill someone, and I most definitely do not want to have to stick my arm up a cow. Probably a strange experience, but not as a job, thanks.

Like a room full of jars, simply waiting to be labelled, we sat once more, and the rest of the class recieves a printed paper, with percentages for their most likely jobs. Some get 93% Doctor, 84% fashion designer, 32% politics campaigner.

I wonder why mine wasn't handed out, and go to see the teacher.

"The computer couldn't do yours. It just printed out "error"."

Error.

"What are you going to be, Mark?"

"A doctor."

"What about you, Chris?"

"I'm going to run my own business."

"Darren?"

"I got an error."

ERROR. If I get rich, famous, and I've got a good enough story to tell... when I do my autobiography, that's going to be my title.

Two or so years on, I'm sitting at my desk typing this. And it's beginning to sink in.

No longer can I learn anything from my school, which isn't anyone's fault but my own. I don't fit in with this exam business. I don't fit in with college, and I certainly don't fit in with any job you're likely to get with all those wonderful things. I'll be proud to never get them, not because I'm Fred Durst, but because I believe there is more to life than being judged by how much you can learn before you get bored.

So that's what I'm doing. I'm leaving school.

So rash, oh so rash. But this is the end of the story, and I've yet to tell you the middle.

After my error, I tried to find something that at the very LEAST I could enjoy. It was difficult. Very difficult.

I had the stories on here. That was a start... I enjoyed them, and I knew if I worked hard enough I could become good with them.

But no... words were never my strong point. I love to read all the fascinating words that people use... the ones you have to look up in a dictionary to understand... but to me, as a writer at least, that seems pointless. Communication is so much more important to me, and to get something across by using a simpler word, so more people can understand it, I'm much happier, and it's much easier.

However, simple words don't sell books. And it's a shame, because I for one am happy to read them, as long as the story is great and the characters appeal to me. I get a kick from it, usually in the teeth of one of my hidden emotions. That's always great.

Then was the film director, which my parents were very happy to hear. But, of course, logic came into that. I was doing Maths, Tech and IT at A-Level. How the hell could I do a course, and definitely, that was the only way out.

It was a combination of Edge and these forums that then sparked me off onto games design. I tried looking for things to do for college...

And then that question came back. The one that's going to haunt me for as long as I live, because of my inital refusal to ask it.

Why?

Why do I need to learn programming, when all I want to do is create worlds, and characters?

I'm an entertainer, a story teller. I'm not a mathematician, I'm not a programmer, and don't even tell me to count polygons.

So the job with Rareware that I'd considered for a long time seemed like a good option. The plan was, to make an animation... something I could use to improve my skills with, and hopefully, by the time I leave school, I'd be at a stage where I could compete with the best. And then, when I'm in, I might... *just* might, be able to work up to game designer. Be given a chance to make a game.

Why?

I now also know that's not going to happen. I have to be as calculated as I can... and through all the work I've done, and all the animating I've done... it's not for me. I love to design, and making the models is great fun, because I get a chance to speak my mind for a change... but then, I'm not very professional. I wouldn't be able to make low poly characters, or even animate FMV sequences. I can just about direct, but I can't make legs move, or heads stay the same size when someone is walking... I can hardly make mouths open and close to one word, for crying out loud. :0)

So, once again, someone else saves me, and I don't really have to think for myself so much. Rareware offer a new job.

Games Designer.

They want a CV, and a design brief of a game... The game I've been saving for a long time, the one none of you know about...

I've just about finished the brief. I've got to check it over, and I've got to make sure it's got everything I want to say on. I need to write a letter, something to catch their eye... not by making it pretty, but by explaing who I am without having to resort to all these crappy "when i was eight years old i fell over" things that I hate so much but feel compelled to write about.

I need a CV. I haven't done anything. I need to convince them that I'm capable of doing something like this...

This will be sent off as soon as possible. Perhaps even tommorrow. I'm back on the football field again, hoping I can be picked because they know I'll go in goal for them.

And once again, that dreaded question...

Why?

And for once, I can answer it.

The world is full of people with stories. Stories about how they did this, and how they did that... and everyone, everyone over a certain age, has the same story. They all do, and it upsets me.

"If only."

If I had done that, then I would be there. If I had done this, I wouldn't be here.

If I don't leave school, and if I don't apply for this job... and I mean, now, this second... I am going to lose my chance. And that CANNOT happen. Not to me, not to anybody. It shouldn't, and it can't.

I WILL get this job. This isn't something I'm telling myself to keep my confidence high... and it isn't an egotistical thing either. I'm not sure what it is. I can't even tell you why... but this time it's a good feeling, something that can't be explained... but in the same way, I know I'm on the right track. We're all here for a reason. I don't know what the reason is... it may not even be to make games, I'll see in years to come... but for once, at last, for once now, I feel I'm on the right track.

But I'm scared. Scared of change, scared of failure... and once again, I don't know why.

Good luck to you all... but whatever happens to me, now, I can't help but think this is the end of chapter three, short as it was.

God I'm scared.

I'm looking forward to the freebie games he's going to ship out from Rare's warehouse a week before release for me to play.

lo Grix m8 :)

I honestly, really, truly wish you all the best, Grix. And I really really really hope you get this job. Good luck, I'll be looking forward to playing one of your games in the future :-D

Oh, the sarcasm. Thats some damn good sarcasm.

Nah, I'd want more than about six people to play it... :0)

(I wonder if Grix, when he gets his job at Rare, will find it ironic that he will be designing games for the XBox?)

Heh.

(No, I mean, for all he knows, the ideas that he comes up with may never see the light of day on a Gamecube)

Does it matter? As long as his ideas are translated into a media that can portray Grix's storyline they way he wants it portrayed, what difference does it make which format is used?

(That's too difficult for me, I need more coffee, go get some.)

Say the magic word.

(Pringles.)

OK.

Money has only ever crossed my mind whenever I'm asked about it. And honestly, I don't care. I need enough to live, and pay rent, and hopefully buy a house... but apart from that, there's nothing else I want but to design.

And there's nothing more I can do. The letter has gone, the brief design document and my CV with it.

And now the hardest part. Waiting.

Why the hell did I choose a Friday to send it...

Friday! Isn't it today that Golden Sun gets released?

*runs to car*

I passed my driving test. I rule. :0D

Good luck everyone, and thanks. I'll keep you updated with the rest of my life, whatever happens.

(So, if you get this interview... you going to be the same wreak of a being?)

Hell no. That's not something I'm worried about. I'll have no problem at all with that... I've just got to be myself.

(You'll need a wash first.)

Yeah, that's something I AM worried about.

It’s strange.

Everyone here has a story to tell. 2 or 3 of you have been on the verge of suicide. You all have these lives that have been filled with ups and downs.

Yet here I am, my life not going up or down, but dead straight. If my life were a rollercoaster, it would be the worst one in the world. The biggest part would be a fair size up followed by a fair sized confusing down, where me and got too drunk and too lonely.

Grix, I really cannot offer you any advice at all. I have wondered what I’m going to do with my life, but at 15 (and 10 days) you don’t really have much choice. You just go to classes, whether you like it or not.

Why do you want that job? Well, you get paid for it. It is in an area of life that you enjoy.

Amazingly moving topic there Grix. It really helped me think about a few things.

Especially that 'what if'.

It was four years ago I began to feel that my life was falling apart. I had to stop all my sports and activities and twice a week go for physiotheraphy and osteopatheraphy. Osteopatheraphy wasn't that bad, I would lie there on a bench and have my body examined for over two hours (terribly dull). Then after two years of that, they said 'sorry, maybe you will grow out of your chest problems'. I didn't lose all hope, as I still had the physio report to turn to....

...I had been punished and driven in the hospital gym for over one year of the treatment, they made me run or exercise till I couldn't breathe. Wanting to see if different exercises effected me different. To them I was a hamster with a new growth problem, the MRI (my most terrifying moment in life was that machine) had told them that my diaphragm wasn't expanding properly because of a muscle attached to the lower rib. This scared me.

However, years later I am still here, making use of what exercise I can do, which is normally a few situps and a quick game of footie every college day.

I have already talked before on this forum about my way out. Breifly, gaming was a huge thing for me in all times of worry, it was something that put most of the problems behind me, and for a few seconds during that particular game, I felt empty, hollow and beautifully numb.

As I moved through High School it hit me that my GCSE's were a few weeks away, I started to teach myself Science. Those three books that help you revise, I taught myself as much as I could, we didn't really have any proper Science lessons at my school. They were on the timetable, but it normally resulted in a fire alarm or the game we made called 'bunsen burner challenge'. With this new frame of mind, I knew I only needed to pass five GCSE's to get into college, with extra English help from Will Self (yeap, that guy) my end results were that I passed exceeding all my hopes (passing all except one: 10 A-C's).

This taught me one thing, if I help myself, I will succeed.

'In your life, there is only you Joby' - My father.

I was thrilled, a new look, the skies were no longer vanilla coloured, just pure white. Sadly, this purity had a disgustingly horrible grey lining. It was about to hit me in the summer.

The worst thing in life, is seeing someone die, but still live. Maybe that needs more explanation. Well, my mother and father dragged eachother down, physically fighting and destorying the family. My two sisters departed, for good. My brother also left home. I was a wreck. Watching my stable 'home' destory itself. There were the people dying, my parents. There I was, trying to open the new door, but the harse cruel wind closed it.

That was it.

I walked across the kitchen, raised a knife to my heart, and looked at myself one last time. Courage wasn't needed, I was trying to commit suicide out of fear. Not still knowing if it was fear of the past, or fear of my future.
At that moment, I fell to the floor, and all that pain that had built for four years, hit me...

...throwing the knife away, I broke down into tears that were not normal tears, each tear made me more angry, this wasn't just crying from pain, it was anger and vision.

There I was, 16 years old, just returning from a great holiday in Newquay to have this crapulence. Each time I got hit back, I would look for a new 'meaning' to life, maybe 'meaning' is too strong a word.

'The hardest thing in this life, is to live in it'

I looked for an opening, pulling myself up from that kitchen floor was the hardest thing I have ever done, it meant I had to continue, and I didn't even think to lift myself up. That was my body saying to my mind 'get up'.

College. Yes. After the 'teach yourself' GCSE results I gave myself an opening, by choosing A level courses I wanted to take. I slowly stopped talking with my mother anymore, she was just an instant pain reminder. I had to pick my future by myself.

Philosophy, Media, IT and DT. (All single courses).

Semptember came, and I had changed too much. Over the years I had developed a shell, last summer that same shell thickened too much. Nobody could brake through. I was a wondering body. I lost friends, and slowly began to realise what was happening. I had turned into a complete 'knob'. I set myself a new destination. I was going to revert myself to 'pre-summer' and also at that moment I decided to drop the IT course and the DT course.

Down to two courses the college wouldn't let me continue because I would have too much free time. I was going to have a huge argument with the principle over the 'free time' usage. NOBODY EVER HAS FREE TIME. Anyways, I took up Theatre Studies. I was taking three A level courses.

People around me laughed at me, it was a month into the course and I had dropped IT and DT, the two 'Joby Stephens' was best at. In DT my folder in GCSE gained second highest in the country, I acheived 100% in the exam. That is where that came from. IT.. well, apparently I am a computer. However, my heart told me what to do, and I did it.

Everyday I went to college, re-adjusting myself from the mornings events at home. It was in November my parents told me they didn't love me, and I was an accessory. That face of my mothers I will never forget. Never. It was her heart that made me sick. I sat on the college bound train away from friends, I remember the tear in my eye. I didn't want to be doing this.

'Hiya Joby, how are you?' I was asked three minutes later.
'Yeah cool, I am ok.' I answered.

What was the point of trying to explain something you didn't even understand.

More alike mornings followed, until December. This was my decision time. I looked at my timetable. Knowing that change was good. I marched my legs to the principles office and after too much deliberation he contacted my dad. I wanted to change the single Media course to the Double Media VCE Course (worth two). Luckily, I got backing from the Media department. I was the only person to have changed course halve way through the year in that college's history.

Not just feeling proud, I knew I had to make it for myself. Over christmas I worked my fingers through the bone, and on return (I shall leave out christmas from this post, as that was nt good) to college I had managed to defy all odds, and catch up with the rest of my 'new' class.



And here I am, deciding on my future. Shall I go to America for university. I am terrible at Philosophy, however I enjoy it (which is the point). Theatre Studies I enjoy, even though I am not good at it. MediaVCE I love, I look forward to the lesson, giving me more hope for the future.

'Its nice to be good at something, its better to be the best.'

I am about to go for councilling for my troubles, hoping it will help, however I know that this very post has helped me express feelings. It reminds you of the past, which in this case is bad, although it reminds you that it must get better.

My dad still looks older by the day. My mum, I never even mention her (you might have noticed). Life isn't bliss. Life is just this. Its living.

Little over a month ago I found out the meaning of my name Joby.

'The trialed and tested one by God'. That made me smile. Briefly.

I admire you Grix, I would even go as far as to say you have 'er-no's' respect. You will be brilliant. Thats all.

I'm scared too.
Joby

Basically application. Sorry, should have made clearer.

Have you got a date for the interview? Or are you at the application stage?