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Why I Left

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Why I Left Empty Why I Left

Post by dancnbna on Thu Jan 30, 2014 12:51 am

You look at the thing you used to love. That thing that you spent so much time with, that was
with you through times good and bad. It brought you great joy. And yet, it makes you sick to
your stomach whenever you see it again. Nothing will bring back that spark. You loathe it.

That is how I am now.

I, Dan, had enough. No longer did I feel a reason to come back to the chatroom every day, when
in the end nothing would be accomplished and I would leave even worse than when I came. Like
life, I knew that my time here would end. But the question was, when?

Several weeks ago, I reached the breaking point. The pile of stress from this site increased to
the point that I vowed to leave and never return. So far, I have kept that promise partially. On
occasion, I peer in to the black place and view psuedonyms of role-plays or names of new faces.
I grimace and leave quickly as I return.

What has convinced me to give up on this site? I must tell. So listen.

The downfall began slowly. I would return from school, ready to tell of the day's excitements
and accomplishments. But when I arrived, either the chat was in the middle of a role-play (which
I had no intent to join) or nobody seemed to care what I had to say. Even if there wasn't a
role-play happening, it was bound to, and they would become too absorbed into it to care about
me. Others would show their artistic creations, all of which were superior to anything my hand
could produce. My mood would slowly decline, with crushing exhaustion resulting from low blood
sugar adding on to it.

There were good times, but the negatives stuck their corrupting knives into the experience.

There was talk of a new story. But by then, I had lost all interest in anything relating to any
stories. Their talk and plans were gibberish to me. Soon, there was a character sheet. I took a
look at it, listened to peoples' plans, and threw it away in disgust. This didn't seem like a
story! It was a game! What purpose did these collections of stats have? None! Just to loosely
gauge theoretical events? I didn't even try to put effort into it. I filled it out
several times; first in a mocking parody, then with useless information, and finally with
nothing. I gave up.

Life went on. Slowly, the experiences started to become more negative. Somebody here asked me if I was drawn here by habit, not choice. His question was correct, and he knew it, but he felt it himself.

The dark ages came. What caused it?

The small group of about ten bloated into nearly thirty, give or take a few people. The
first was jarring, as this was sudden and without warning. I did not like this person, and this
person's childish behavior. Later, I saw this as the point the chat "jumped the shark." More
people came. Nobody knew what they talked about but themselves, and seemed to have little
substance. I tried my best to tolerate them. On a good day, they were tolerable. On a bad day,
they were blathering criminals who brought in the dark ages.

Once, I was feeling ready for fresh air. So, I took a self-inflicted break from the chat for
about five days. Those five days were the best days I'd had in a long time. When I returned, I
quickly stepped back into the quagmire of the chat, where I stewed.

The floodgates opened. Within the space of a few weeks, too many people joined. The sight of a
new face became toxic to me. They were vile enough to cause me to storm out in disgust at the
state of the place. I would not return with their presence. I would glance in, and the peoples'
roleplays grew more elaborate, with pseudonyms on top of their own. It disgusted me.

One day, I lie in bed in a state of turmoil and fury. The things my mind conjured were horrible
and vile. There are little words that can describe the feeling. These things were declarations
of absolute hatred and bile towards the people of the chat. These were things that I could
bear to vomit out onto the people here. It was an excruciatingly painful
experience, mentally and physically.

Eventually, the last straw was placed.

I don't remember my exact feelings or the state, but somebody came in. New. This person's name
was Mirkwood, with several letters following it. Something within me cracked. At that instant, I
reached for the "Log Out" button and clicked it. I vowed to leave the chat forever. I cleared
out everything in my profile and logged out.

What happened next? I was happy. I could begin and leave the afternoon/day in one piece. I
didn't stew in my own rotten juices of discontent. I found some school activities to keep me
occupied for a few extra hours each day. Yet, there was something else.

I knew I'd left people behind. They know the void, those who have been with me for so long.
Those who don't were deprived of another fascinating mind and personality. Had I abandoned them?

Probably. There was exactly one newcomer whom I had begun to form friendships with, only to
splinter them off with my hasty exit. I could still keep in contact with a few people outside
the HQ forums.

Eventually, I glanced in and saw, but didn't read, Galax's statement on himself. I had planned
to write this message for weeks. That message convinced me to write this statement. Just think:
if I was in the kind of mood I was in a few weeks ago, this statement probably would have been
far more hateful. It would not reflect who I am.

And so it is.

I have told my view on these events. I do not know if I feel relieved at telling it, or heavier with guilt. But in any case, life will go on.

To all those I have left behind, those I would call my friends: I'm sorry to have to do this; it was for none of your good and only mine. It is selfish. And yet it was the only thing I could do to help myself.

And may the light of the stars never fade...

Posts : 143
Join date : 2011-07-23
Age : 23
Location : The Realm of Impossibility

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