(Bump in the Road is a multi-part story where I discuss in as much detail as I can remember the times that I attempted wrestling school. Part 1 discusses my growing up on wrestling and some brief backyard wrestling. Part 2 dives into my brief time in Halifax, Nova Scotia and a burgeoning wrestling school. Part 3 involves my first major nervous breakdown and suicide attempt. Part 4 begins the story of my time at a legitimate wrestling school in Toronto.)
This chapter is kind of a side-tangent. Originally, this was going to cover some of the creative process, but also on my struggles with bumping and holds. It still relates to my time at Rob Fuego’s school, don’t worry. I just wanted to talk a little bit about the creative process and homework that Mitchell and I did between classes. I think it’s just as important as the actual training. We’ll get back to the wrestling part next time, I promise.
This exact thought runs through my head all the time.
A psychiatrist recently evaluated me. I suppose it could be re-evaluated since I’ve been evaluated by psychiatrists for decades now. Previously, I’d been diagnosed with depression, situational depression, ADD/ADHD (or whatever the cool kids call it these days), and probably countless others I’m forgetting.
However, after discussing my history of depression, he came to probably the most startling conclusion I’d ever heard from anyone I’ve seen in the mental health field: I don’t have depression. At the very least, I didn’t have clinical depression. He explained that the most common signs of clinical depression last at minimum ten days, often two weeks. I told him that generally (with some exceptions), my depressive periods lasted maybe five days at the most before I would break out of it. His conclusion: not clinical depression. He said it explained why the cornucopia of antidepressants that I’d tried over the years rarely ever worked for me.
I was miraculously cured! No more feeling sorry for myself! No more suicidal thoughts! Hell, no more suicide attempts! (Which, in retrospect, I think were cries for help.)
It seems like this blog has unintentionally become more about wrestling than comics. Which is strange because the latter is a hobby I’m closer to than wrestling these days. Still, for those who may not be aware, my favourite superhero of all time is Superman. I love his mythology, the stories, and how his character is undeniably moral perfection (except in cases where they get the character wrong, like Man of Steel).
Years ago, I wrote up what I perceived as my ideal Superman game. After all, there has never really been a great Superman game. Some decent ones, like Shadow of Apokalips, but for the most part, they’ve either been terrible (Superman 64) or forgettable (Superman Returns). Since writing about my ideal Superman game, things have changed in the game industry. The Batman Arkham series came out, which has been arguably some of the best superhero games to date. Fans have been clamouring for a good Superman game since. So, I thought I’d revisit my idea, breaking it down into categories, and see how my ideal Superman game would look now.
(Bump in the Road is a multi-part story where I discuss in as much detail as I can remember the times that I attempted wrestling school. Part One discusses my growing up on wrestling and some brief backyard wrestling. Part Two dives into my brief time in Halifax, Nova Scotia and a burgeoning wrestling school. Part Three involves my first major nervous breakdown and suicide attempt.)
For years, I gave up on the idea of wrestling school. In fact, I was okay with that. I was happy that I finally decided to finish my university degree in English Literature. While studying, I worked at Blockbuster Video, which provided me with free movies, video games, and an assortment of customer stories. At some point, I might write another series on those stories.
Unfortunately, depression reared its ugly head again. I dropped out of school and instead, started working full-time at Blockbuster. I was miserable. In 2006 and ‘07, I dedicated a lot of my energy to rediscovering myself. I tried different things, like horseback riding. I started hitting the gym on a regular basis and wound up dropping around 40 pounds. Heck, my arms – especially my biceps – became something one might call a gun show. Health-wise, I had a newfound confidence in myself. I was in the best shape of my life.
However, I really wasn’t doing anything with my life. School was an afterthought for now, but I wasn’t really doing anything except working and going to the gym. Fortunately, this would change very soon.
There are times I consider handing in my nerd card. You know, the nerd card that comes with all the perks of being a nerd. See, there are several things in nerd culture now that I’m just not interested in: Game of Thrones, Adventure Time, Archer, My Little Pony, etc. I’ve tried them all at one time or another and just couldn’t get into them for various reasons. Game of Thrones, for example, I found too confusing with far too many characters introduced all at once and then trying to keep track of all the different factions and sub-factions. Someone provided me a flow-chart once, stating that it would help me understand things better. I’m sorry, but no, if I need a confusing flow-chart to understand something, then the storyteller has failed at their job of engaging me.
There have been times that I’ve said that I’m not interested in this or that. Most times, people are understanding about it. There are, however, rare instances where someone will say, “Your loss!” or “You’re missing out.”
Am I, though? Am I really? Is it really such a huge ordeal that I’m not interested in one particular form of entertainment?
(Bump in the Road is a multi-part story where I discuss in as much detail as I can remember the times that I attempted wrestling school. Part One discusses my growing up on wrestling and some brief backyard wrestling. Part Two dives into my brief time in Halifax, Nova Scotia and a burgeoning wrestling school.)
After my nervous breakdown at the end of 1999, I moved back in with my parents. By this point, they had moved to Fredericton, New Brunswick. As I mentioned in Part 1, that’s where I’d attended St. Thomas University. So I had some familiarity with the city. Honestly, I struggled to find reasons even to get out of bed as depression hit me harder and harder. For a while, I worked overnight shifts at the local Ultramar gas station. It got me out of the house, but that was about it. My girlfriend broke up with me during the Christmas holidays, leaving me for a guy she only knew online. That’s a long story. I also didn’t really have much in the way of a social life since I didn’t know many people in Fredericton.
My depression only worsened. At that point, the most inane, tiny thing would finally break me. That silly, mundane thing that broke me occurred on February 27, 2000, the night of WWF’s No Way Out.
Thanks, little guy! Could’ve have done it without you. Sort of…
If it wasn’t for a toe wart, I may not have figured out what to do with my first murder mystery.