Changes, especially big ones, are scary. I decided that I fundamentally wanted to change my life, or at least try to, and it scared the hell out of me. Still does I guess, since I am still in the middle of it.
All my life I’ve had big ideas and big dreams, but I’ve always let them pass or just fade away. Books I’ve never written, games I never designed, chances never taken. I’ve always lived in a “what if” world, always wondering about what might have been if only…
The biggest change I wanted to make was to stop telling myself that it can’t be done, or at least not by me. I needed to tell myself that its ok to dream big and to shoot for the moon. I’ve decided that I will follow through with every idea I have. Write a children’s book? Sure. Start a game company and create card and board games? Ok. Make a movie? Well… How about a web channel? Maybe.
I would try everything I could think of, maybe one of them would pay off and become my calling. My wife gave me six months to try anything I could come up with, if something works out, then great. If not, I guess it’s back to the boring life for me. Boring, but safe.
I guess I’ve just never had the chance to take a big risk like this. I had my first child before graduating high school, so I’ve spent almost my entire adult life with a family counting on me to provide for them and to be stable. Now that my kids are old enough, I feel I am a bit more free to take on this kind of risk, there is less riding on me if I fail.
Fail. I guess that word is really at the heart of all my fears. What if I try and fail? Am I destined to life a boring life where I am just living to survive? What’s the point in that? That was my biggest thought when I was suicidal, if I’m just surviving and not living life, then why wait for a slow death, just get it over with now. I don’t like boring. I don’t like normal. I don’t like safe. I like fun.
I always felt like I was meant for something greater, I just had to find my calling. I have, or at least had, an amazing imagination. Why can’t I make a living off of that instead of my body? My mind was once an wondrous thing; intelligent, imaginative, insightful. It’s about time that it work for me, not against me. I worry that it may have atrophied, been out of use too long. I hope I can kick start it again by forcing myself to create. I wish I could go back to school, my mind seems to crave more and more knowledge, like it feeds off of it. If I feed it, it might just start working again.
So that is where I’m at, trying everything I can think of that isn’t manual labor. I hope it works.
Cross your fingers.