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. I need to build a soundboard of you saying things like, “don’t be a dick”, “you are awesome”, “Hello, Sheldon.”
    Just for those days when I need a little Wilsdom.

  4. Thanks for sharing! Not to sound like a broken record, but I’m in the same boat yadda yadda. Funny thing for me is, I am weird in that I actually get more depressed in summer (some are worse than others; this one hasn’t been so bad, but last year nearly killed me). The rain this weekend (I live in Seattle) has been a welcome reminder that salvation is coming.

    1. I am SO with you on that reverse seasonal affective disorder. I hate the sun and heat. I moved to Portland, OR just to be in cloudy weather most of the time. So, yeah, this summer has been crap. But, yes, the rain this weekend was lovely. And the weather forecasters say this September’s temperatures are supposed to be slightly lower than average. Yay! 🙂

  5. Rain is awesome. That scene from Blade Runner is so evocative of the plight of being alone (it being possible to feel alone surrounded by people).

  6. Thank you again for sharing. And for being you. As a teacher I often feel the need to put on a tough face or be in a professional mode. When my anxiety shows in my class I fear not being good enough. Therapy helps. Now I share relaxation and sharing of emotions to my students. A healthy me = healthy teaching to the kids. BTW spellcheck wanted “being good” to be brewing good. Got an Octoberfest in fermination this week.

  7. I am sorry you haven’t been feeling well. Remember, you are loved and you are awesome!

    I like the imagery of the wall. I’ve been staring at my wall for quite awhile now. Thank you for pointing out that there are handholds.

  8. This just makes me smile. People wonder why I enjoy gaming as much as I do, and it’s for this reason right here. It brings us together. We get to put all the BS to the side and focus on a similar goal that we either help one another to achieve, or work against to foil our opponent. It lets us laugh and be silly with one another, and in this day and age, I think that is something we could all use a bit more of.

  9. This is why it’s so important to break the stigma surrounding mental illness. It needs to be more out in the open so that those of us struggling don’t feel so alone on the battlefield. It’s a little easier when you don’t have to feel like you have to keep it hidden like a dark secret. There’s too many of us not to talk about it.

  10. Will I have loved your work since you were a kid (and I younger) and I love magic (have since day 1 in 1993 sometime.) I am gladdened that you are involved in presenting what is good about the game to us. (I am a bit salty about some stuff going on online but that’s a different thing.) I am glad that you can talk about your deep pits of despair openly and with gentle honesty.

    I have found song writing and artwork have helped ameliorate my own melancholia but most of all gaming is where I find my joy. It is wonderful that you do as well.

    Thanks for being you.

  11. I play MTG, casually. It’s one of the things I feel like it’s okay to suck at and not obsess over, especially because the local store (literally up the street I live on) has a pretty good crowd. (There are some super competitive players there, but no one is going to be a(n) ____.) My theory is that if I’m having fun–which might mean drafting a pretty card, or testing a combo, or having a good conversation, or pretty much anything else unrelated to whose life total is higher–then I win. If people want to play super cut-throat crazy they can, but they’re not going to enjoy it as much as I do.

    Thank you for having the courage to be yourself. It takes a lot of spoons to do that even when you are not famous. I appreciate it.

  14. I appear to have something in both my eyes…

    It’s taken me 20+ years to get the hang of “keeping on rolling 1’s”. Or as Dancer would say, “Failing your way towards success.”

    I’ve buggered up more things than I care to remember. Yet I keep trying, even when things appear to be as fruit-shaped as they can get. Because of people like yourself.

    Keep on keeping on.

    And thank you.

  15. Thank you. I understand the anxiety and depression.Your stories have helped so many people and I’m proud to be a fan.
    I’m not the only one who yells “LIES” at bullshit o’clock! I also say “it’s too early to be good”

  16. Wish it was raining here, always makes me smile. I’ve had a shitty two weeks (money probs, moving probs, death in th family) and it’s to the point where if I don’t focus on one tiny thing (packing or games) my depression tries to mug me.

    Between Tabletop, Markiplier and Smosh Games though, I’ve found enough to focus on that I can not think about other things while doing what I need to.

    And yes, I’l be repetitive: You have no idea how many lives you touch, and how many beautiful things you bring to the world. I know it’s hard, but do your best to ignore those annoying, irrational little rats who steal into your brain. You are a great man, with a wonderful and beautiful family who gives so much to the world even if it’s just a moment of time we can sit and laugh and not worry about our own problems.

  17. Just remember that anytime you need you need help drowning out the bad voice we are all here ready with a chorus of “Wil is Awesome!”. Also huuugs 🙂

  18. Thank you for being so open. I can’t tell you how brave it is. Your writing really resonated with me. I feel the same, especially in dark moments. I too hide behind jokes and smiles. Thank you for sharing this and reminding me (and doubtless many others) that I’m (we’re) not alone in this

  19. Really nice article – I wasn’t going to finish it and let sleep attack my body, then I found myself at the end. At first, I thought it was a gamer’s article and that made sense, considering the niche you’ve carved for yourself (Who wouldn’t want to play a game with someone who is invested in playing?!). Instead, it opened up into a thoughtful piece that spurred me to write how I feel when I’m working through invisimud. I deleted that and choose instead to give you kudos for speaking up, for attempting a new game with a legion of masters and for maintaining an excellent sense of humor.We are both fans of you and the Hardwick.

    My wife tells me I need to listen to some audio book you recently read really well. Too tired to remember the name but impressing her is as formidable as a new card in my world. I think you’d be the guy to tlak to at a party;>

  22. Keep doing what you do Wil, you inspire people keep playing…be it games, or in life. Chin up, Sir.

  25. Every time you open up about your depression I wish I could hug you. I understand the struggle. It’s been miserable lately. It’s gotten to the point that I hardly leave my house (except for doctor appointments). I feel so alone and hopeless so often these days. Then you post something and I realize I’m not alone, and if you can keep going then so can I. You’re still creating, and that’s amazing. I want to get back to that point too.

    Keep fighting, Wil, and so will I. Thank you for sharing, thank you for playing, and thank you for giving me someone to show my kids and say, “see, being a Geek is awesome.”

  26. Dear Wil,

    Thank you for this post. I found it very touching and teared up a bit at the end. I suffer from depression and have been on medication to control it for years. I never really have great highs, but I don’t have great lows either so it all evens out. I’m encouraged by yourself and others being vocal about depression. I know for me the hardest step was making the choice to go see someone and get into counseling. It is amazing how much that can help and having less stigma attached to the disease will help others get on the path to recovery.

    I wanted to reply to offer some words of encouragement. You do great things! You’ve done great things in the past and you will do great things in the future!

    Although I watched Next Generation it wasn’t until I saw you in the The Guild and Big Bang Theory that you were on my radar. Then Geek & Sundry and Tabletop and boom you were a major part of my entertainment. I know Felicia and everyone else at G&S work very hard and they’ve produced some cool shows, but Tabletop is really what made that channel take off.

    Not only did you and Tabletop help me to get back into boardgaming, you helped me go to GenCon for the first time in 2013. Because of renewed interest in gaming I’d started running a Pathfinder campaign and saw a post on Twitter asking for people to volunteer to demo Paizo’s new card game. I volunteered, not actually thinking anything would come of it. To my shock I was accepted. I got early access to a very light version of the game. I worked full time on the show floor demoing the game and had a wonderful time and met some cool people. Having a well-defined role makes it much easier for me to interact with people. I was teaching the game and I wanted to do the best I could. I had tweeted to you and Tom Vasel that I wanted to demo the game for you. I wanted to make sure if you guys played the game that you had got the best experience possible. It didn’t end up happening but even the possibility of it was cool for me.

    Tabletop also opened my eyes to the future of entertainment. I hardly watch TV anymore but I consume a great deal of YouTube content. Then there started to be cross-overs: Totalbiscuit, Jesse Cox, Dodger. A combination of Tabletop and TB’s Co-optional Lounge inspired me to begin my own YouTube series playing the Pathfinder Adventure Card Game. It has been cool to watch it grow, to get comments on the videos, and of course to play the game.

    Then there is Titansgrave, which is amazing!

    It bears repeating: You’ve done great things and you will continue to do great things.

    Thanks for being you!

    Stephan

  27. Thanks for being you. Thanks for being awesome. And truly, beyond words truly, thanks for sharing…
    —from another soul on their own crazy path…and conquering it too.

  28. thank you for the articule and the presentation, it was awesome and so are you. thank you for all you do.

  33. Your writing my friend is mind blowing. It is a rare thing to read any prose and feel that it speaks oneself. I almost felt like I was there at the game and witnessing in person the exchange and feeling it also as it were.

  34. I don’t suffer from depression – but I know people who do. And people like you and Jenny help me to understand my friends when they are in the midst of their own bad weeks. I may find myself in that dark place one day. It happens. And I hope that if I do, I have role models like you to help me find my way.

  35. This was wonderful to read. I finally asked my doctor this summer about angst (and depression also came up), and just started getting some help with it. I recognise everything you said about that voice telling you you suck. However, I always feel better when I’m reminded that I’m not alone, and that there are people out there with similar issues to mine, who are absolutely awesome! Makes me feel like there may be hope for me too 🙂

    Also: I LOVE Tabletop and Titansgrave! <3 Can’t wait for new seasons!

    Love from Norway!

  36. I don’t game, have no concept of it at all. However I do relate with depression and anxiety AND I adore Jenny Lawson and now because of her, I found you and am mesmerized by your writing.

  37. My husband and I love your work and think you’re a great guy. Your episodes on Big Bang Theory are always our favorites, and we absolutely loved your audio books of Ready Player One and Red Shirts. We’d vote for you as VP of the OASIS! 😉 We are quite familiar with that niggling voice of inadequacy and appreciate how you share your experience with others.

  38. You are an eloquent writer, Wil, and you are one of my greatest heroes. It is such an amazing experience for all us geeks, that you are not afraid to be one of us. It’s easy to mock or dismiss a fan base for not being cool or photogenic by the standards of a Hollywood red carpet, and it seems like a lot of famous people do exactly that. You instead have chosen to be authentic and courageous in using your privileged position to give voice to the things people don’t like to talk about. I don’t doubt you’ve saved a lot of lives. I’m sorry you’ve been having a tough week, and I hope with all my heart that it is getting better. I hold you in the Light. Please keep doing what you’re doing!

  39. Darn you, Wil Wheaton! You made me cry at work, again. You have an amazing, courageous heart and I really admire your willingness to share yourself with the world!

  41. Well and beautifully said Wil. As someone who has walked this road for pretty much my whole 60 yrs I love that you reach out instead of remaining silent. I have found that there are many more of us, creative, empathic,self effacing yet incredibly talented hidden souls than we are aware of. It is the reaching out that connects us and allows us to be together what we cannot fathom ourselves being alone. Be well fellow warrior.

  44. I always read and never comment. Today, after a few really crappy weeks, I just really needed this. Thank you Wil for being honest and real. It’s refreshing and it’s odd how these types of posts tend to happen when I need them most. Yours and Jenny’s…who I’ve read online for 10 years now.

  45. I stumbled on this from Facebook, admittedly because of the Bladerunner like title. Haven’t read much of your writings, but I am very glad that I pulled this up. I’ve had a tremendously bad spell with my own anxiety and depression lately and reading this, being able to relate to what you wrote, made me feel a little less alone. Thank you.

  46. My son suffers from depression and anxiety. It has turned his world upside down. He lost his scholarships to college and it has been downhill since. He was always a straight A student and his junior year he completely changed. I’m not sure what I can do to help him. He’s not a minor so I can’t make him get help. I’ve tried talking to him but he just shuts down. I feel helpless. I suffer from depression too so I know the struggle. I just don’t know what the right words are to encourage him to seek treatment.

  47. Wil, I can’t say I understand what you and others go through. I can say that I enjoy what and how you write. Glad I found this page. Regardless of what your topic is, even when its dark, there is always an undercurrent of optimism and good cheer. Keep doing what you are doing.

  48. I regularly fight with depression due to a car accident I was in where I…killed someone. I was sober, but very tired, and didn’t see the stop sign in time to stop. It has been a struggle ever since, and I am on anti-anxiety medication just to get through most days. And most folks don’t get it when I don’t want to hear about car accidents or how I freak out seeing most stop signs. I just lose it sometimes.

    The point is, reading things like this remind me that I am not alone and that some people do understand, and that I will keep telling people why I am depressed and I will keep on helping people through theirs when I can.

    Thank you, Wil, for all you do.

  49. Hopefully you can see that you not only show folks the handholds in the wall, you also put windows into your own wall so others can see you. The bravery this takes is just staggering to me.

    Thank you for the wonderful man we see you to be, on and off camera.

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