Hasn't worked out so far.
Maybe it's because the game shaped my teenage years, or because the community shaped everything from my writing to my knowledge of pop culture (thanks LR threads), but I always come back to TL. Every time, it's with the intent of giving something back to the place that has given me so much - so many moments, so many friends, so many opportunities to become better at the things I like, and many formative experiences. I'm not gonna lie, I get asked a lot about the signed Collector's Edition Legacy of the Void that sits prominently in my bookshelf among heaps of course literature. I got it at Blizzcon, I'll inevitably mention, even if no one really asks or knows to appreciate the answer.
I like to think I come back again and again with the hope of continuing where I kind of haphazardly left off because very few things in my life have been as important to me as the Teamliquid/Starcraft one-two punch. But my reasoning is that if Taeja can come back to professional Starcraft after his hiatus, and Serral can become a top player internationally, then I'm sure I can crank out something or other eventually.
On a seemingly unrelated note, I want to get a few words out on being unwell, generally.
With the looming risk of sounding too ideological for comfort, we live in a society of unsound values. Not entirely unsound, mind, just unsound enough that many people that lose their footing get trampled. I see it in the workplace, in university, in my swimming team, in my family, in the news. More recently, I've seen it in myself. I've only recently come to terms with being public to my friends/family about my psychological struggles, and while I would like to say that it's been relieving (it hasn't) and that I'm steadily getting better as a result (I'm not), it has given me perspective on just how ill-equipped many parts of society are for dealing with the mentally ill (or even just those that are ill for the long term, in general). "I'm depressed" is a dirty, dirty sentence and I've never received so much unfounded and poorly researched advice as I have in the last two months. All in goodwill, but fumbling regardless. Everyone has a home remedy for a sore muscle, a cold, a headache. The home remedy for depression, more often than not is, "try to think about the good things" (my coach suggested intense masturbation, which was an awkward conversation)-- which is a gut punch on its own, because more generally I can't seem to think of a single good thing half of the time. On a good day, I can stand on my own. On a bad day, the bed is more appealing than doing anything at all, because there, at least, I can whisk away the day. "You have so many good things going for you" is an awful thing to hear when you already know it but don't feel it. It's all with good intentions, but I've never felt as guilty for feeling weak as when my brother had to tell my parents that the psychologist had essentially written me out of studies for the rest of the semester.
"I'm seeing a psychologist" is a sentence I never thought I would type out, because only people that don't have their lives together get ill. I know -- and have always known, I suppose -- how stupid and untrue that notion is, but it is so pervasive that you risk falling into believing it of yourself and dispelling your own concerns as a result. I was ill for a long time before I began looking for professional help. I overworked myself and failed to do so many things at once that the growing stack of things I'd failed to do became an ominous everyday shadow that I'm still kind of scared of. But I am seeing a psychologist, and while I'm not well, I have been in a worse place. This is all a long-winded way for me to say, like a million other people have, that "getting help" is called getting help because it gets you help. I thought the embarrassment of opening up would outweigh the merits of having a sympathetic ear. It didn't, actually. I didn't even die, so that's cool.
What I mean to say is that if you at any time feel like you are overburdened (especially when it feels inexplicable), letting someone know isn't worse than the alternatives. I'm too proud for my own good and I ran circles around every truth and only gradually surrendered them, bit by bit, because it was easier to deny, deny, deny.
This might all seem obvious (and it does to me as well, in retrospect), but if I can convince even one person somewhere down the line that help is both accessible and harmless, then a least something good will have come of all of this.
If you read past all that, either out of morbid curiosity or of genuine care, I also want to say that I keep coming back to this place because it's full of caring, genuine, and cool people -- even if they cheer for Terran players. Thank you for being part of what makes this such a great community.
I debated whether self-advertising is really justified given how invisible I have been over the last two-some years, but I've realized that prostitution is an inescapable part of writing (don't quote me). In the long back-and-forth between myself and publishers, I'm writing a horror serial in the vein of H.P Lovecraft-meets-Fringe called Code Eldritch of which I publish two bite-sized chapters each week (Wednesday and Sunday). It's a funky project, but fun. If you're short on reading material, you're welcome to check it out.