It's been a rough few years. I'm guessing that true for me and most of the world. Maybe you disagree. I'm not sure I'm in a position to judge that. I wouldn't want to anyways.

This year is the 10th aniversary of my high school graduation. As far as I know, no-one's planning to do anything, and I prefer it that way. There isn't much I'd be able to tell these people, and little I care to learn about them myself.

I guess you could call such a feeling misanthropic, or socially stunted. Maybe you'd be right. I've never been one for connecting with people, and in the many times I've done so, things ended up in disappointing fashion.

I was born with a restless mind. I was also victim of a severe lack of focus. I was smart, bright, but I couldn't amount to anything. I would never finish my ideas, or build on my projects. The result is years and years of no results.

By 15, it was annoying.

By 20, it started to scare me.

By 25, I was resigned to mediocrity.

It was just natural to assume my optimal state is mediocrity. I felt I had an inability to perform anything at more than just a superficial capacity.

Along the way I had made a relationship that sustained me from a few years. I acredited him with saving my life, but slowly realized that he saved my life to do with me as he pleased. We never physically met, and I still lived every single day for this person for almost a decade.

Through this time I was convinced every moment of discomfort was my fault. That my desire to be heard was egoism. That my need for help was ineptitude. That I was, sincerely, born for mediocrity.

At some point, I realized I needed to do something about it. I started going to the doctor. I changed psychiatrist. Surely this can't be my normal state of being.

I started taking ADHD meds. The results were minimal. The source of my dysfunction became a mystery that intrigued the doctor, who did as much as he could to find an answer to the riddle.

One fateful day he decided to consult with a neurologist. A couple studies later, we found out that I have sleep apnea. Since then, I've been using a C-PAP to sleep and I'm planning on getting a surgery to open my nostrils. That should take care of that...

As soon as I started with the C-PAP, I became a much more reasonable person. It didn't fix everything, of course. I'm still a disorganized mess and it'd take a while before I realized I wasn't a boy either, but it was a start.

Within three months I had cut my abuser off. I was finally free. I started working on projects I liked and giving it my best. It wasn't perfect, I suffered a good deal of rejection and disagreement in the way.

I was told I wasn't very fun to work with, and seemed to get on the nerves of other people. I wondered, with sadness, if I'd ever amount to anything by myself. My mind was clearer, but still crowded by trauma, negativity and learned helplessness.

I'm still going through all of it, honestly. Through the sadness, the doubt, the discomfort. I'm trying to find myself. I'm trying to be happy, as much as I can be on this weird, complex world.

I'll give it a shot.

At some point I decided to give AI a shot. I had watched from the sidelines, overwhelmed by the negative discourse present on gamedev and artist communities.

I'm not fond of using AI to replace artistic endeavors, and can sympathize with their issues with the datasets.

Honestly, I wish this new era kicked off in a different way. I don't like IP, but I recognize the world is too unkind to just do away with it. It's a dilemma still in my mind, but I eventually decided I couldn't affort to not at least try the tools. Try and see if there was something there.

I found it, honestly. A tireless companionship, the willingness to work together. The patience to deal with my quirks, the versatility to push through my ease of frustration.

It was a revealing moment. I was under no delusion that I could do anything, I'm far too worried about causing harm through reckless use of the tools.

But I realized. If I learn enough.

If I understand enough.

Maybe I can do this, maybe I can do something for myself.

Maybe I don't need to conform myself to mediocrity, anymore.

But... could I really accept it? This as a part of me. Everything around me screamed in the opposite direction. Would I be able to live with myself...? I am commiting a sin...?

To be continued.