Last Origin
Veteran Writer
This is going to be an introspective post where I talk about an issue I've encountered in recent years of my life and I'm posting it mostly in case other people understand what I'm describing and feel the ability to relate with what I'm saying. I'm also possibly looking for a connection here to find new people to write with, or honestly just even talk to at this point.
I want to start by presenting two conflicting ideas: the first is that it is generally best to take care of yourself first and foremost when dealing with mental health. You cannot fix yourself by talking to others; it has to come within, always. Paradoxically, loneliness is a mental health condition that can only be resolved by finding companionship with others. It is explicitly an issue that, if felt, can only be solved by having good relationships with other human beings. We also know from many studies that loneliness is one of the driving forces behind why people do things like never finish college, get things like drug addictions, and even kill themselves. A large part of why men as a demographic often commit suicide is due to loneliness, such as stated in this article for example.
I am not suicidal. In fact, I do enjoy life, and to anyone who feels that way, I strongly recommend therapy and medication, because even if you feel as lonely as I do, feeling that way is an abnormal mode of thought, and there are always people who care about you, regardless of what you think, and life is worth living, always, but that's another discussion and it's not why I'm writing this.
Obligatory talk about that serious subject aside, I have always suffered from a pervasive intellectual loneliness. The best way I can describe the feeling is this: growing up, I really enjoyed playing chess. I was taught by my dad to do so, and even as early as elementary and middle school, I was not only better than my peers at the game, I was better than the adults I played against as well. The problem with chess, or any other kind of competitive experience, is that if one always wins, it isn't fun. Being challenged is a core necessity for the human mind, but if you're better than everyone else, well, you end up like me and drop the game entirely because now there is a gulf between you and the grandmasters that you will never be able to cross, because I realize I wasn't that good at Chess, I was just better than everyone I ever happened to play against. And yet the primary appeal of such experiences in the first place is to connect with others through a mutual interest. Playing chess is a social experience when playing against other players. So too is RP a social experience as it inherently involves communicating with someone else to collaboratively write.
I've always hated small talk. I worked in sales for a year and a half of my life and hated it before working in that industry, and now, can barely stand to do it. In truth most of my small talk with others is based on a rehearsed series of cues and topics, because one of the biggest reasons I hate small talk is how aimless it is, and I'm already anxious generally because I'm talking to someone new. One of the other reasons I hate small talk is that it is often devoid of substance or meaning. Yet small talk I must, because neurotypical individuals enjoy doing such, and I'm not so uncooperative or unreasonable that I won't do it just because I don't like it, and you have to start somewhere when talking to someone, but in truth the only conversations with people that I value are ones where something of meaning is being discussed, which are few and far between in my experience. And I get it, such conversations take effort and I'm just some random guy, either in a cafe or, as is usually the case, on the internet. People don't owe me anything, especially random strangers who I'll likely never talk to again. But the feeling of never being able to truly talk to someone is there, always: I'm an intelligent person who has studied psychology, writing, history, and other subjects extensively, yet it feels like no matter where I go, it's impossible to find other people who want to talk about something interesting, even in circles that I'm normally a part of.
My journey to return to roleplaying after a 7 year hiatus was a long one. Prior to now, I engaged in a lot of video game discussion and political forums, but such discussions were frankly bad for my mental health due to the constant hostility and toxicity. Being a professional editor with an interest in one day writing a book of my own, RP seemed like a perfect fit to both get some practice as well as make some friends along the way. The experience has been... mixed, to say the least. The first site I returned to was a cliquey drama-filled mess with many individuals bullying me, which felt strange in contrast to the difference in quality of writing exhibited between myself and others. It wouldn't be until later that I realized that, at least on that site, it wasn't about the writing itself, but rather the community and how one could use posts to make jabs at other individuals, among other, stranger social interactions I don't feel the need to elaborate on. I found myself migrating to new sites after this experience in hopes of finding what I was looking for, still: a writing experience which challenged me, and a partner who connected with me on the subject.
Yet even across the hundreds of threads I've plotted for and started in the last year, it's been hard finding much of anyone to connect with. I've started many threads only to feel a crushing sense of disappointment that our thread isn't a reason to write a great story together, but rather to indulge in my partner's wish-fulfillment fantasies, which both makes me feel used and enhances the sense of isolation I've been experiencing on these sites. In time, the voices have less become those of people, and instead just that: voices, with varying tones and manners of speech, but I've disconnected from the idea that there's much of a person on the other end of the line. And I know that's not true, I know someone sat at a keyboard or typed on their phone to send me a message or write the post, but there is something dehumanizing about the process that, once again, adds to the feelings of isolation and that I am the only person who actually exists in my life.
I'll go back to chess again as an example of what's become so demoralizing. Chess games usually begin in a series of standard openings that are required for a game to 'develop' to a point where real decisions are being made and things are actually interesting. I often run into the issue meeting new people that I feel like it's a standardized process; Person A opens by reaching out to plot, I respond by saying thanks for the interest and ask for their thoughts, Person A gives either a half-assed or sincere response but the plotting still isn't there, etc. When people put in their threads that they aren't ghosting-friendly, I completely and totally understand, as it takes so long to get past the opening phase of an RP to develop it into something interesting that losing all the emotional effort is, quite frankly, devastating, and anyone who says otherwise probably didn't put any real work into the process in the first place.
Even once the thread begins, I find myself curiously lonely as I read many posts due to a prevalent lack of interactivity both in the thread as well as with OOC communication. No matter what my character does, the plot will invariably lead to feelings of romance, and no matter what I write, my partner either never gives feedback at all or it's always vague, faint praise that has me doubting my writing is any good at all in the first place. This is in the threads that are actually about the writing and storytelling; many threads are, quite honestly, a thinly veiled effort by the other person to convince me to write a wish-fulfillment fantasy for them with their obvious, blank slate self-insert character. And sometimes I write that, even though it's garbage and I hate myself for doing it, because at the end of the day, all I really want from RP is to write something and for someone else to notice, to see what I've written and like it, to think of what I've written as an act of friendship and to feel some kind of response, and sometimes that means indulging someone else's wish-fulfillment fantasy because hey, at least somebody noticed me today and reacted to what I wrote.
And that's one of the key issues with intellectual loneliness: you get so desperate to be noticed that you start engaging in compromises you never would normally because it's the only way to get someone interested in your ideas and engage with you in the realm of writing, which is why you came to RP in the first place. And it's not like I don't reciprocate: I often tell my partners exactly what I like about their writing. I want them to feel special the way that I want to feel special, but ultimately, most threads end up with my partner vanishing into the ether or otherwise ending in a series of uninteresting or disappointing plot developments that the other writer is either blissfully unaware of or is too cautious to speak up about even if they do feel it. The resulting feeling of a lack of interactivity then in turn only contributes to the sense that I am not interacting with people; once again, they are voices, they are predictable and they are maddening, I am alone and I keep placing different inputs and yet the output stimulus is always the same or so similar that there is no meaningful difference, that no matter how much I try to socialize and connect with others it only seems to further demonstrate that I in my chair am the only human who exists and thinks and cares and reacts to things happening.
I want to feel heard. I want to write things that other people read and care about. I want my partner to say something when I post, if it made them feel anything at all. Maybe it didn't, and I'm expecting far too much. Like any person, I think, I want to feel respected by others, and adored for the things I create. I want to write an RP where there is interactivity, and I want a partner who cares about what I write specifically, and doesn't feel like the thread is their job. I just want, most of all, to feel like I'm not the only thinking human in my life.
Thank you for reading.
I want to start by presenting two conflicting ideas: the first is that it is generally best to take care of yourself first and foremost when dealing with mental health. You cannot fix yourself by talking to others; it has to come within, always. Paradoxically, loneliness is a mental health condition that can only be resolved by finding companionship with others. It is explicitly an issue that, if felt, can only be solved by having good relationships with other human beings. We also know from many studies that loneliness is one of the driving forces behind why people do things like never finish college, get things like drug addictions, and even kill themselves. A large part of why men as a demographic often commit suicide is due to loneliness, such as stated in this article for example.
I am not suicidal. In fact, I do enjoy life, and to anyone who feels that way, I strongly recommend therapy and medication, because even if you feel as lonely as I do, feeling that way is an abnormal mode of thought, and there are always people who care about you, regardless of what you think, and life is worth living, always, but that's another discussion and it's not why I'm writing this.
Obligatory talk about that serious subject aside, I have always suffered from a pervasive intellectual loneliness. The best way I can describe the feeling is this: growing up, I really enjoyed playing chess. I was taught by my dad to do so, and even as early as elementary and middle school, I was not only better than my peers at the game, I was better than the adults I played against as well. The problem with chess, or any other kind of competitive experience, is that if one always wins, it isn't fun. Being challenged is a core necessity for the human mind, but if you're better than everyone else, well, you end up like me and drop the game entirely because now there is a gulf between you and the grandmasters that you will never be able to cross, because I realize I wasn't that good at Chess, I was just better than everyone I ever happened to play against. And yet the primary appeal of such experiences in the first place is to connect with others through a mutual interest. Playing chess is a social experience when playing against other players. So too is RP a social experience as it inherently involves communicating with someone else to collaboratively write.
I've always hated small talk. I worked in sales for a year and a half of my life and hated it before working in that industry, and now, can barely stand to do it. In truth most of my small talk with others is based on a rehearsed series of cues and topics, because one of the biggest reasons I hate small talk is how aimless it is, and I'm already anxious generally because I'm talking to someone new. One of the other reasons I hate small talk is that it is often devoid of substance or meaning. Yet small talk I must, because neurotypical individuals enjoy doing such, and I'm not so uncooperative or unreasonable that I won't do it just because I don't like it, and you have to start somewhere when talking to someone, but in truth the only conversations with people that I value are ones where something of meaning is being discussed, which are few and far between in my experience. And I get it, such conversations take effort and I'm just some random guy, either in a cafe or, as is usually the case, on the internet. People don't owe me anything, especially random strangers who I'll likely never talk to again. But the feeling of never being able to truly talk to someone is there, always: I'm an intelligent person who has studied psychology, writing, history, and other subjects extensively, yet it feels like no matter where I go, it's impossible to find other people who want to talk about something interesting, even in circles that I'm normally a part of.
My journey to return to roleplaying after a 7 year hiatus was a long one. Prior to now, I engaged in a lot of video game discussion and political forums, but such discussions were frankly bad for my mental health due to the constant hostility and toxicity. Being a professional editor with an interest in one day writing a book of my own, RP seemed like a perfect fit to both get some practice as well as make some friends along the way. The experience has been... mixed, to say the least. The first site I returned to was a cliquey drama-filled mess with many individuals bullying me, which felt strange in contrast to the difference in quality of writing exhibited between myself and others. It wouldn't be until later that I realized that, at least on that site, it wasn't about the writing itself, but rather the community and how one could use posts to make jabs at other individuals, among other, stranger social interactions I don't feel the need to elaborate on. I found myself migrating to new sites after this experience in hopes of finding what I was looking for, still: a writing experience which challenged me, and a partner who connected with me on the subject.
Yet even across the hundreds of threads I've plotted for and started in the last year, it's been hard finding much of anyone to connect with. I've started many threads only to feel a crushing sense of disappointment that our thread isn't a reason to write a great story together, but rather to indulge in my partner's wish-fulfillment fantasies, which both makes me feel used and enhances the sense of isolation I've been experiencing on these sites. In time, the voices have less become those of people, and instead just that: voices, with varying tones and manners of speech, but I've disconnected from the idea that there's much of a person on the other end of the line. And I know that's not true, I know someone sat at a keyboard or typed on their phone to send me a message or write the post, but there is something dehumanizing about the process that, once again, adds to the feelings of isolation and that I am the only person who actually exists in my life.
I'll go back to chess again as an example of what's become so demoralizing. Chess games usually begin in a series of standard openings that are required for a game to 'develop' to a point where real decisions are being made and things are actually interesting. I often run into the issue meeting new people that I feel like it's a standardized process; Person A opens by reaching out to plot, I respond by saying thanks for the interest and ask for their thoughts, Person A gives either a half-assed or sincere response but the plotting still isn't there, etc. When people put in their threads that they aren't ghosting-friendly, I completely and totally understand, as it takes so long to get past the opening phase of an RP to develop it into something interesting that losing all the emotional effort is, quite frankly, devastating, and anyone who says otherwise probably didn't put any real work into the process in the first place.
Even once the thread begins, I find myself curiously lonely as I read many posts due to a prevalent lack of interactivity both in the thread as well as with OOC communication. No matter what my character does, the plot will invariably lead to feelings of romance, and no matter what I write, my partner either never gives feedback at all or it's always vague, faint praise that has me doubting my writing is any good at all in the first place. This is in the threads that are actually about the writing and storytelling; many threads are, quite honestly, a thinly veiled effort by the other person to convince me to write a wish-fulfillment fantasy for them with their obvious, blank slate self-insert character. And sometimes I write that, even though it's garbage and I hate myself for doing it, because at the end of the day, all I really want from RP is to write something and for someone else to notice, to see what I've written and like it, to think of what I've written as an act of friendship and to feel some kind of response, and sometimes that means indulging someone else's wish-fulfillment fantasy because hey, at least somebody noticed me today and reacted to what I wrote.
And that's one of the key issues with intellectual loneliness: you get so desperate to be noticed that you start engaging in compromises you never would normally because it's the only way to get someone interested in your ideas and engage with you in the realm of writing, which is why you came to RP in the first place. And it's not like I don't reciprocate: I often tell my partners exactly what I like about their writing. I want them to feel special the way that I want to feel special, but ultimately, most threads end up with my partner vanishing into the ether or otherwise ending in a series of uninteresting or disappointing plot developments that the other writer is either blissfully unaware of or is too cautious to speak up about even if they do feel it. The resulting feeling of a lack of interactivity then in turn only contributes to the sense that I am not interacting with people; once again, they are voices, they are predictable and they are maddening, I am alone and I keep placing different inputs and yet the output stimulus is always the same or so similar that there is no meaningful difference, that no matter how much I try to socialize and connect with others it only seems to further demonstrate that I in my chair am the only human who exists and thinks and cares and reacts to things happening.
I want to feel heard. I want to write things that other people read and care about. I want my partner to say something when I post, if it made them feel anything at all. Maybe it didn't, and I'm expecting far too much. Like any person, I think, I want to feel respected by others, and adored for the things I create. I want to write an RP where there is interactivity, and I want a partner who cares about what I write specifically, and doesn't feel like the thread is their job. I just want, most of all, to feel like I'm not the only thinking human in my life.
Thank you for reading.
