tears in rain

I walked out of the loading dock, through a cloud of rotting garbage, and into the alleyway behind the theater. A curtain of rain fell between me and my destination, a little over a block away.

“Do you want to wait here, while I get you an umbrella?” Liz, the producer from Wizards of the Coast, asked me.

“No,” I said, stepping into the rain, extending my arms outward and turning my palms and face to the sky, “it’s been so long since I felt rain fall on my body, I’m not going to let this opportunity pass me by.”

I walked down the sidewalk, surrounded by other PAX attendees. Some were not bothered by the rain, while others held up programs and newspapers and other things to keep it away. A man walked his dog next to me. The dog was unperturbed by the weather. We got to the corner and waited for the light to change. The rain intensified and it was glorious.

“Are you sure this is okay?” She said.

“Oh yes, this is so much more than okay,” I answered, “this is perfect.”

Earlier

Les Baxter’s soothing sounds were not soothing at 6am. Quiet Village played on my phone, which was, by comparison, better to wake up to as an alarm than an actual alarm’s jarring screech. Still, at 6am, the only thing I want to hear is whatever is in my dreams.

I dragged myself out of bed, silenced my alarm, and started my day.

Coffee.

Muffin.

Shower.

Hairstyle.

Retry hairstyle.

Beard oil.

Retry hairstyle.

Brush teeth.

Give up and accept hairstyle.

Elevator.

Lobby.

“Good morning,” April, from Wizards of the Coast, said.

“LIES!” I said with a smile.

“Can I get you a coffee?”

“Yes. You can get me all the coffee.”

“How would you like your coffee?” A new guy asked me, joining us. “I’m Brad from Wizards,” he told me.

“Angry. I want a big cup of angry coffee.”

We all laughed as Ashly Burch joined us.

“Good morning, Ashly,” April said.

“More lies,” I said, “there is no such thing as a good morning at bullshit o’clock.”

We went on like this for a few more minutes, my anti-morning sass offset by Ashly’s relentless happiness and positivity. Coffees in hand, we walked out of our hotel and a few blocks away to the theater where we were hosting the Battle for Zendikar preview show for Wizards of the Coast, thirteen hours in the future.

Rehearsal went as well as a rehearsal can at 7am (bullshit o’clock plus one hour, if you’re scoring on the Wheaton Clock), and a second run through was legitimately good. The point of the thing was to introduce a bunch of new cards that are about to come out in the Battle for Zendikar set, and to do it in a way that was hopefully amusing to the people on the room, and the Magic fans watching on the Internet. In a little over thirteen hours, we’d know if we succeeded.

I thanked everyone for a good couple of run throughs, went back to my hotel, and took a nap. I woke up, ate a sandwich, and took another nap. Then I woke up for real, went downstairs, and headed back into PAX to play Magic against as many people as I could in two hours.

If the presentation was the work, this was going to be the fun. I haven’t played Magic competitively in well over ten years, and I’ve only played casually in the last five or six years. Until I started preparing for this weekend, I didn’t know what was happening in the story of Magic, and there were a lot of current mechanics that I wasn’t familiar with. But I did a ton of homework, and with the help of some friends (especially my friend, Graham Stark, who really held my hand through the whole process), I entered the battlefield, as ready as I could be against players who dueled on a regular basis.

In the story of Magic, the world of Zendikar is currently being attacked by a species of terrifying creatures called the Eldrazi. These creatures are massive and ancient and hungry. They are so hungry, they devour everything in whatever plane they happen to invade. From their point of view, this isn’t a bad thing (they just want to scoop up everything available at the buffet), but from the point of view of literally every other living thing in the multiverse, the Eldrazi need to be stopped and contained. So these powerful Planeswalkers used the magic inherent to Zendikar along with these things called Hedrons to trap the Eldrazi there. Everything was great for a few thousand years, but now things are not so great. The Eldrazi are awake, hungry, and anxious to get back to feeding, starting with Zendikar itself.

That’s where I and a bunch of really cool and interesting people come in. We all played the role of the Eldrazi, in duels against players who were the representing the Zendikari. I had one deck that was built around summoning these massive Eldrazi creatures, and the players had their choice of three different decks that used different strategies, according to their skill level.

The players were, literally, battling for Zendikar. When a certain number of player victories were achieved, the image of an Eldrazi creature on a huge screen would be replaced with the image of a preview card from the next set, Battle for Zendikar. It was a clever and fun way for Magic fans to both duel against some cool and interesting people (or me), while they also worked as a group to get a first look at what’s coming up next in the game they love to play.

It was incredibly fun. I’m not good at Magic by any objective measure, and I’m certainly not going to offer any kind of meaningful challenge to a player who is experienced in tournament play … but I am pretty good at playing a role, and in these duels I was playing the role of the bad guys, which is something I’m fairly comfortable — some may even say good at — doing.

I learned how my deck was constructed with the help of Rich Hagon, a Pro Tour announcer. “You want to stay alive long enough to get enough mana to cast these big creatures,” he told me. “It won’t be easy, but when you can hit them, you’ll hit them hard.”

“Back when I played regularly, I liked to play with small, fast, ‘death by a thousand cuts’ decks, so this is the opposite of my preferred playing style,” I told him. “I think it’s going to be fun to get out of my comfort zone and do something different.”

Rich wished me luck, we discussed the possibility of him joining me for Tabletop next season, and I got ready to go to work. Well, I mean, to play. Even though I was technically working, I was actually actually playing in the way people play for enjoyment. Playing was also my job for the next few hours, so I guess I was going to work to play. Which was for work. But mostly for play.

Still with me? Good.

I got wrecked in my first game, which gave me tons of mana but not a lot of creatures. I won my second game, using a bunch of smaller creatures to absorb damage from the other player while I got more and more lands into play, finally casting a couple of Eldrazi who were very big and very nasty, including Ulamog the Infinite Gyre.

Win or lose, though, a couple of things happened in every duel:

  • I had a really good time, and so did the other player.
  • None of the people I played with traded the joy of playing for the pursuit of winning.
  • Every player told me how excited they were to play with me, and that they’d been hoping I’d be the Eldrazi (from the more than twenty possible players) they’d face.

This last thing was really awesome, because I could feel how happy it made these people to play with me. I’ve been feeling pretty much the opposite of awesome for several weeks, now, and actually getting to sit down, face to face, in a semi-quiet few moments with real people who wanted to be there with me was … restorative, I guess is the best word. One player told me, “Thank you for everything you do. From Tabletop to Titansgrave — which is the best thing I’ve ever seen — to talking so openly about anxiety and depression.” He then destroyed me, with the final life counts being -8 for me, and 43 for him. It was awesome.

Part of my Depression is this voice that never stops telling me that I suck. Part of my Depression is this constant fear that everyone will know how afraid of failure I am. Part of my Depression is this relentless worrying, in the face of mountains of evidence to the contrary, that I’m never going to do anything that matters.

I know that all of those thoughts — occasionally sincerely held beliefs, even — aren’t rational. I know that they are intrusive and part of depression lying, but when the depression and anxiety are very strong and very loud and I’m feeling very sad about some things, the guard who sits between my rational mind and my irrational emotions is easy to sneak past, and when Depression sees that happen, it makes the most of the opportunity.

I was really worried that I was going to suck when I did the presentation with Ashly on Saturday night. I was really worried that Magic players — who aren’t exactly renowned for being the most welcoming and inclusive people on the planet — wouldn’t give me a chance, because I don’t play as frequently or intensely as they do. I was worried that I would be tired and that I would make stupid mistakes that made me look unprepared. Depression saw all of that, and it pounced. I was, basically, a big ball of anxiety up until the moment the presentation was finished, and for a fair amount of time after, too.

I did make some stupid mistakes, but I thought I pulled out of them in an entertaining way (the folks who hired me told me they liked what I did, and the writers of the script were pleased with what I did, so I’ll let them judge). Ashly was perfect, and she made us both look better than I deserved. But I really did have fun talking with Mark Rosewater, who is the head designer for Magic, when we revealed to the world the preview cards we showed during the duels, and some others (like full frame dual lands) that made Magic fans go bananas.

(If you can spell bananas without Gwen Stefani doing it for you in your head, you’re missing out on something great.)

So putting it all together, it was a good and successful event. Yeah, the people who hate something that I do because I did it are always there, and yeah the type of Magic player who needs to be a gatekeeper didn’t like it, and there were some people who just didn’t like it because it wasn’t what they were looking for. All of that is totally fine, of course, but they were outnumbered by at least 20:1, and maybe even more.

But all of that isn’t even the best part of the day, or even the trip, for me.
The best part of the day came at the end of my last duel. The guy I was playing with was kicking my ass. I was down to, I think, 5 or 7 life, and he was still close to 20. I got super lucky and was able to play a card that wipes everything off the table that isn’t colorless, which cleared off all his creatures and gave me a couple of rounds to get out Ulamog, who went to work destroying all of his lands and creatures, and then devouring him. With the win, I finished 4 and 3 on the afternoon.

I extended my hand and thanked him for playing, because it was a genuinely fun and challenging match. He took my hand and he said, “I was really hoping that I’d get to play with you, because you saved my life.” Before I could respond, he continued, “everything you’ve written and shared about anxiety and depression helped me get treatment for my own mental health.”

It’s not the first time someone has said something like this to me, but this guy and I had spent about twenty minutes playing a game together, and we’d sort of bonded a little bit, the way people do when they’re playing a game. I felt an unexpected swell of emotion, and I said, “I’m really happy to know that I could help you the way Jenny Lawson helped me. I have to tell you that I haven’t been feeling very awesome lately, and the last few weeks have really been a struggle. In fact, I’ve had to take [medication] every day this week just to get through the day.”

He laughed. “Me too!”

“The thing I think we have to remember is that there is no finish line with depression, anxiety, or any other sort of mental illness. We’re on this path, and the path is constantly changing. Sometimes it’s flat and well-marked, and we can see all the way to the horizon.” I realized that I had gone from shaking his hand to holding it. “Other times, it’s so heavily shrouded in fog and mist, we can’t even see past our fingertips and we need someone to show us where the path is. And sometimes, we come to a wall that we don’t think we’ll ever get over. I’ve been staring at the base of that wall for weeks, and just now you helped me remember that there are always handholds to get up and over it.”

“You were one of my handholds,” he said, with a squeeze of my hand.

And that’s when we both began to cry.

“I’m sorry,” I said, wiping tears off my cheeks, “it’s been a really shitty few weeks, and you just really, really made me feel better about myself.”

We began to laugh through the tears, and when we composed ourselves, we took a picture together.

“Thanks for playing with me,” I said, “and thanks for … everything else, too.”

“You’re welcome,” he said.

“Play more games!” I said.

“I will!”

The announcer told the crowd that we were about to reveal another new card, and there was much rejoicing.

Later

I had a little less than an hour between finishing the games and starting the presentation.

Again, I walked back to the hotel to change my clothes. I reflected on my final duel, and another, similar conversation I had with a different player right after it that is so deeply personal I’m not going to recount it.

It was raining, again. I looked up into it, again, and let the rain fall on my face.

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240 thoughts on “tears in rain”

  1. Wow you have described how I’ve been feeling for a fair bit now. I thought it was situational but the situation has changed and I still feel the same. ♡ you! Take care of yourself and know that we all love you!

  3. I honestly couldn’t get through this without crying. I also live with depression and anxiety and there are days, weeks, months, and years of my life where it’s been an uphill struggle. I thought I was all alone…and then I found out that you have a similar struggle in life. I don’t know you and you don’t me, but I know that I’m not alone anymore. Wil, you have also saved my life in more ways than you will ever know.

  4. you are definitely one of my handholds. i so grok what you mean about that wall. and you know…just about how you can’t logic around the depression and anxiety. it just doesn’t work.

    thanks again. we’re in this together.

  5. There is so much I could, or maybe should, write. But I won’t. I will however, say thank you. It is nice to see and have it reminded that people in positions of influence, and fame deal with many of the same struggle that this gamer mom on the west coast is dealing it. But we drag ourselves out of bed for the things and people we love, even when we can’t do it for ourselves.

  6. You are really AWSOME guy and don’t you forget it, you help people and you don’t really know it. Love to you and your family xxxx

  8. My son is going through an enormously difficult time right now, and your descriptions are spot on. It means more than you can know just to hear someone (especially someone I’ve been following for a long time and I think is wonderful 🙂 ) TALK about it! I’m sharing this with him because he’s a big gamer geek, too, and I know it will have meaning for him. Thank you SO MUCH!

  10. Thanks! Your courage and honesty are amazing. You have turned being “different” into being “ok”. Just keep doing what comes next and things will work out. By the way, you most definately do NOT suck!

  12. I can’t remember if I have ever commented on your blog more than once or twice before, but I have to today. Hubby and I watched the announcements on Twitch the other night, and I thought you did just fine. Skipping ahead a little bit actually made hubby more excited for the reveal. And the ending! I haven’t seen him that excited in a while.
    And also, yes, there are tears. That stupid voice inside my head that tells me I’m no good and am going to screw everything up has been trying extra hard to get me to believe it lately. I have an audition tomorrow for a regional chorus, and I just have to kick that voices assume before I go in there and sing my heart out.
    Thank you, Wil, for being so open about yourself. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

  13. I attend PAX each year and I am always excited when I see your name on a panel. A few years ago I saw you in a hotel lobby and I wanted to tell you how much your writing has meant to me. I got about 1/2 way to you when my anxiety slammed into me lIke a tidal wave. I couldn’t breathe, I felt like I was going to throw up, and I began crying. My friends nearby came to my aid and tried to talk me through it, but there was nothing I could do. I made it through the day, angry at myself for ruining a chance to say hi to you, and angry at my brain for being so broken. Later that day I saw you again, this time you were chatting with Paul & Storm. I had no intention of interrupting so I settled for the weirdest photo bomb picture ever. I now look back on that day as the gateway for me acknowledging that my brain doesn’t work the way I want it to, and sometimes it may ruin chances, bit it doesn’t mean you won’t get a keepsake photo of yourself, dressed like a ninja turtle, smiling maniacally, in front of a bewildered Wil Wheaton! 🙂

  15. Depression is such a lying bastard. Even though we know – fully know – with our brains that we are not alone, it still slithers in and convinces us we are. It takes reminders like this that we are not. You and Jenny are so good at sharing those handholds – and thank you for allowing us to extend them to you, too.

  16. I am glad some of the players helped remind you how awesome you are. Because you are. And you keep contributing to this ongoing conversation about depression and it’s important.
    Just keep swimming.

  17. I teared up a bit reading this. I have been going through some depression issues for the last few years, mostly under the radar, I never ask for help… mostly because I have so much in my life; wife, kids, friends and family, that admitting to depression always feels like a betrayal or selfish.

    We are of a similar age and I have always felt a bit of a resonance with your stories since I first started reading your blog 10 plus years ago. I hope you always continue to do what you feel passionate about and continue searching for the path ahead. I doubt I will reach out for professional help but you continue to be a touchstone.

  18. You seriously don’t know how much you do for many of us.
    Words, laughs, inspiration and more. I’ve been following for a long, long time and when I need that hand hold, you’ve been there either in Character or in written. My Comic Con trip in 2008 and meeting you comes in a top 5 with added bonus that you loved my photo. Huge moment of pride.
    That voice is terrible but hopefully we help by saying so.

  20. Depression.. yeah.. I have to laugh at all the help I get that I don’t need, and none of the help I do need. ..”Experts”….lol

  21. Dammit Wil, quit makin’ me cry!

    But seriously, you are an absolutely AMAZING person – keep doin’ what you do, cuz you do it so well and you make this world just a little bit better just by doin’ it. :3

  22. Darn it’s dusty in here.

    Thank you for sharing your stories. Thank you for sharing the downs as much as the ups. Speaking as one who also deals with mental health issues, I think it’s very powerful that someone with your voice and reach talks about how for many of us this is a process. We’re never “fixed.” We manage our symptoms, and some days/weeks/months are better than others.

  23. It is fortunate that people like Allie Brosh, Jenny Lawson and you, Wil, who can not only share but entertain when facing your struggles, exist in this time of need for those who find you. I hope it continues to be rewarding for you.

  25. You and Jenny both have been a source of strength and inspiration for me on more than one occasion. Today wasn’t a good day; reading your article made it better. To have talented and creative people whom I admire share feelings similar to those I had and fight through them to do amazing things is inspiring. Thank you so much.

    For what it may be worth, I’ve not been coy or shy among my friends about my struggle with depression. I’ve been homeless all year, just now have finally found some case management services, and have a tiny bit of hope that I may find a safe place to stay. The way I see it though, as embarrassing as it all may be for me, if by being open I can reduce the damned stigma even a tiny fraction, it will have been worthwhile.

  27. Wow, that is an awesome story. I’m glad you got a recharge by seeing all you do for people. Your continued ability to show how hard you work helps a lot of people. Thanks again!

  28. Thanks for sharing this. I am 52 and have struggled my whole life it seems, and just when I thought it was easing up (Lies!) It just changed… This helped as I have been very discouraged by its resurgence. I’ll try to scour the walls for handholds and battle on, and know that when I am just too tired to do it another day, I am not alone. One last thing, love your style of writing and truly think you should pursue a novel. Thanks again.

  29. You are a beautiful person Wil. And stronger than you give yourself credit… I bet you are an incredible friend. Take gentle care of you.

  30. I love you and Jenny so much, Wil. So much. You both are my handholds quite often, as I recognize my own bouts with Depression, that lying bastard. I love Anne and Victor, too, for “being there” for the two of you when that lying bastard swoops in.

    I’ve gotten to meet you twice now; both times in the credit union; both times you were so amazingly gracious. I wish I could have “noticed” your struggle this most recent time, so I could have said something more uplifting than my fangirl blather. Obviously, you’re trying to maintain your “up” persona when you’re out in the world, because anyone who doesn’t know what you struggle with would get all judgy and shit, and that’s not cool. I try to play it cool when I see you, and treat you like the real person that you so clearly are, but what can I say? You’re Wil Wheaton, and I’m a silly fangirl with mushmouth.

    I’m looking forward to your next appearance on television, since I’m just not enough of a gamer geek to see you at any kind of convention. Maybe I’ll get to see you in person on the lot, instead of at the credit union. That would be awesome (IMO).

    Anyway, thank you for always being so candid here about all the good and all the bad and all the feels. You really make such a huge difference in all our lives. Please remember that you matter.

  31. Dammit. Now I’m crying.

    Thank you for saving me right back. Honestly. You’ll never know how much your words and honesty have given me strength when I felt I had none.

  32. Wil,

    Damned fine job on ‘Dark Matter’ by the way. Something else for you to feel good about. I like how you mixed both empathy (however selfish) and sociopathy in the character so that he’s not just some simple black-and-white ‘bad guy’.

    Hope they bring you back to further develop that character.

  34. This was a good read. I’m glad that even I get a chance to meet you on a photo op w/ Felicia. It made my day.

    Although, as PAX comes to an end & I head home, I am feeling a swell of depression hitting me today. Saw some old friends & made some new, played some demos, won some raffles & for some free swag. By the end of the day, it’ll be back to my everyday life & it feels so isolated.

    Being to socialize can be a challenge since I’m more of an introvert. I will take this read to heart and to find help.
    Thanks Wil for being a great & honest person. So glad you & many other celebrities represent us. And let us be proud to choose to be ourselves.

  35. I’ve been a fan of tabletop since season one, but only found your blog today. I really have only one thing to say about you sharing yourself and your struggles with depression.

    Thank you.

  36. Maybe its the change of seasons from summer to fall. I am amazed at how many people I know who are/have been struggling recently (including myself). Grateful for support systems in place, medical professionals who genuinely care, and for open communication about mental health and illnesses. The lies will NOT win today.

    1. Dawn, Wil, all,

      A lot of my family members battle with depression, and when I was young I suffered for a couple of years as well.

      21 years ago I moved to low a light area of San Francisco in a building canyoned and shadowed within taller buildings. So the first thing I did was get a very particular type of warm full spectrum light bulbs and put them in all the light sockets in my apartment. They work like a charm and I haven’t fallen into depression at all during the last 21 years.

      Below is a link – and no I don’t have any connection to the company that makes them. 😉

      NOTES: 1) They get pretty hot so use the right wattage in the right fixtures. 2) I only use the clear incandescent ones – not the frosted versions and definitely not the fluorescents, the latter which give off a very harsh white light. 3) They’re a bit pricey but they last a lot longer than a regular incandescent bulb.

      Here’s the link:

      http://bluesbuster.com

      1. ps: Don’t leave them on full blast at night because you will never want to sleep. I keep mine on dimmer switches.

  38. Wil, come back to Seattle anytime, when you need a lift or when you don’t. We love having you. ECCC?

  39. Wil, I had the pleasure of meeting you at GenCon 2010, and even in the short minutes that I got to talk to you (and give you my very first d20), you were really awesome.

    I’ve been reading your blog and books, and you regularly make me laugh and bring me to tears with your stories.

    I’m Attention Deficit, with a small amount of Depression (if I’m honest with myself), and it combines to thrust the same kinds of “you suck” messages deep into my consciousness, especially about my work (which I love, but involves quite a bit of “putting myself out there” in writing and video) but also about gaming (especially with new people).
    This results in me identifying quite strongly with the joys and problems you share with us (thus the aforementioned laughs and tears).

    I have to say, Depression may sneak past your defenses far too frequently, but I can’t properly express how happy it makes me that you sought help for it, and are still around to inspire us, and share your life with us.

  40. Thanks, Wil – you always make me feel thismuch better, and some days, that’s the difference that means I don’t curl up in tears because I burnt toast.

  41. “Part of my Depression is this voice that never stops telling me that I suck. Part of my Depression is this constant fear that everyone will know how afraid of failure I am. Part of my Depression is this relentless worrying… that I’m never going to do anything that matters.”

    holy shit.

  42. Wil, I have long loved your writing, your attitude, and your honesty. I also am one who has been trapped in the darker hallways and dungeons of depression and anxiety. This post is pure Sauce of Awesome, +10. Thank you!

  44. Would you believe that I read this after I just yanked myself off of a plane because I was having a panic attack? Wil, you are awesome. Repeat after me: I truly love and accept myself. This is your mantra.

    Now there is rain in my eyes, dammit.

  49. Dear Mr. Wheaton,

    You are truly a greater force for good than you realize. I cannot fathom your struggle with depression and anxiety. The darkest thing I know is a haunting self-doubt. Yet you sir face something far more grim, and do so with your face lifted to the rain. I am in awe of you, and I have been inspired by you.

    You see having watched your wonderful series Table Top, and Titansgrave, as well as your appearance on Critical Role I witnessed something amazing. I've heard all the jokes about your reality bending ability with dice rolls. Yet I haven't as yet seen anyone fully realize what it is you are actually doing. Yes you rolled an inordinate number of ones, the penultimate fumble as it were, yet, you kept rolling. I know how many times I've rolled a one in my own life choices. I miserably 'fumbled' quite a few things, relationships, friendships, jobs, the list goes on. I'd gotten to the point that I was scared to try anything, for fearing of fumbling again!

    You, Mr. Wheaton, showed me what steady enduring courage is. It's picking up the dice and rolling them again. I'm trying new things now, games, making friends, I've even added a new tabletop RPG mechanic to my writing and literature lessons in my classroom thanks to your inspiring work on Titansgrave. I've even come up with a little catch phrase to tell myself, inspired by you, to encourage me to keep rolling.

    "I roll 1's because I'm not afraid to try again."

    I am profoundly grateful to you sir. Thank you for all that you do, and for sharing.

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