A Serious Post And Another Obituary But With Some More Positive Stuff At The End

 I am at an age where I would expect the odd death of someone I know, but I am starting to realise that it's the younger end of the line which is getting culled. 

This week I found out through a good friend that another friend in the hobby from the old days had taken his own life, bringing the total friends lost to 5 and drom that number the number lost to suicide in the last few years to 2.

Now, I've been close to that I think, three times, but I've been lucky enough to be able to turn my illogical brain around and decide that the world and my enemies will not be happy if I thrive and stay alive.

So, that has been my stated mission, to live long and be hated that much longer.

The first time I was taken with thoughts of suicide, was when I was banned from Games Workshop Sheffield in the 80s (see my book or earlier posts) and my so-called friends allowed themselves to be bought off, trading silence as to what a set-up it was in return for part time jobs at the store. That was a hard lesson and I carried the emotional baggage of that for about 25 years, when it all came out. Now I laugh at that period, because those who sold out a friendship for a few pieces of silver and to be considered part of the 'in crowd' have not done so well themselves - 3 dead and a few more, not doing as well as they always believed they would in those days when they thought they were something more than uncertain teenagers trying to establish their identities.

I laugh, not because of some sense of schadenfreude, but because I realise now, how unimportant being part of that select group was, down the line. I have spoken to others who got a similar treatment and they too felt wounded by it all, but they too have rallied and thrived despite this immature mob mentality. 

But I also realise in a sobering way, that I could have been the in that death roll, and been a third suicide. After all, the teenage mind is far from balanced at the best of times.

I sometimes still have to interact with people who helped push me that way and if (as I know some will be) they read this, I hope the pause to reflect that they could, have had blood on their hands over something they thought of as a 'bit of a laugh'. But hey, that was the 80s after all...

The second, time, I had just been driven to the edge by the loss of Dungeons & Starships in 1999. Luckily, after some pretty dark moments, I just became a recluse for a couple of years, and turned my energy in another direction. I turned despair into drive and do so to this day.  I was able to see what was causing it and with some hard choices and several low points, I got over it. 'Got over it' sounds as if I am trivialising the situation, but at the end of the day, that was where I was at - 'over it', and I think that's where the focus should be.

The third time was about 12 months ago, when my friendship with Roger went South. I got up one day, and said to my wife, quite calmly and somewhat business-like that was considering quietly ending it all. I did actually start to plan for it.

Thankfully, I realised that I have so much to live for, and that sooner or later, you'll die anyway, so you may as well bloody thrive and put as much space between you and that terminal moment. I was very lucky to have something to fight myself for, in the shape of Kayte, aka the memsahib. That, and the fact that I have strong personal views on the value of life - and those views have sometimes been tested.

If you feel of low mood and those thoughts are getting dark, then for fuck's sake, TALK. Even if that is to yourself in a mirror - looking into your own eyes can sometimes give you a jolt of realisation that's second to none, in my personal opinion.

Oh, and forget the crap about 'being a man'. That is a crock of shit which needs to be emptied. You are you, you are a unique, never to be repeated piece of evolution and you matter. You may not think so, but you do. Shine, stand out if as much as you like and if anyone, anyone has a problem with that, it's their problem, not yours.

For some however, I guess that living is harder to deal with than dying. This was the case with Tony. 

Now Tony was, a complex character in the years our paths crossed. He could be a bright, talented and funny guy one day, happy to help with anything. The next day, he could be in all honesty a nasty bastard, with a particularly acerbic  manner.

Personally, I just walked away from it in the mid-80s, but when our paths crossed in more recent years, things were exactly the same. I was not the only one to comment on this, this week. 

Maybe, had we not been so wrapped up in the fallout from how things were in our youth, something may have clicked, but I am tempted to think this was impossible, as it often is with those who have depression and have seemingly ticked off all the pros whilst finding no cons of self-termination. Tony was a twin, and even his twin would appear to have been blind-sided, reading between the lines. So perhaps, in actual fact it was a case of 'when' rather than 'if'.

During my 'wandering minstrel' period of gaming, it was oddly Tony who took me under his wing for a few months. We both attended Sheffield Wargames Society where he managed to avoid paying subs for about two months on the grounds that he was 'still undecided on whether SWS was for him'. This allowed him to buy another drink with the money he saved. He also managed to talk me - someone with a severe case of coimetrophobia - into helping him create double exposures of photographs at night in the cemetery opposite the old SWS venue, laying half in and out of a broken crypt. Something that nobody has ever managed.

Tony was creative when it cane to his roleplaying, and though he preferred a more 'traditional English' kind of fantasy, he played Runequest at both the Sheffield Runelords and at the homes of friends, something the majority of us would not have done were the roles reversed.

And as I said, my friendship was passing so I can only imagine how those who knew Tony much better than I, must be feeling right now. I wish I could say more about Tony, but I can't. What I hope I have been able to do, is be open about my own problems and make you see that there's no shame in not being what so-called society tells you you should be. To hell with that.

Few of us, can be a success in the way we dream of being, but we can be ourselves. If you are surrounded by creative minds as is often the case in the gaming world, it's easy to think you are not up to the standards of others, but again, that's their standards. Set your own, make them comfortable and thrive.

Anyway, if you can see this Tony, you were a daft bastard to let the world win and as a result you will be missed by many people you may not have realised would care.

Rest in Peace, Tony Atkin.

If anyone reading this has been in that dark place or currently is, reach out for help, no matter how pointless you may think the situation is. If you throw in the towel, you lose the chance to stick a finger or two up to the universe. Get some help and don't waste that precious time you have been given. Nobody can cash in on the metaphorical empties, so you may as well make something of that opportunity.

I've been there, and I can tell you that I'd have missed out on so much, had I not straightened myself out, dusted myself down and sunk my teeth into the leg of the  universe.

Yes living is hard at times, but death is final. Everyone is special in some way, you just sometimes need to stop and take stock, before deciding what your 'super power' is.

 

Now, let's try and lighten the mood somewhat with a brief update on my gaming activities...

As I type, the memsahib is spending her afternoon cracking on with basing some of the backlog of figures for my great fantasy project, whilst I have spent most of the weekend, undercoating 300+ pieces of pre-slotta Dark Elf goodness and  wrapping it for delivery to my painter along with about 10 kilos of other assorted fantasy models. Next week, I hope to be able to be able to get another 300 or so models from the archives below the Dark Tower and et those similarly prepared and away to the painter.

I've managed to get hold of a pristine FS2-2 Necromancer sacrificing victim on altar, which is a model I originally paid £1 for as 'deal of the week' at GW Sheffield, and which, this time, cost me £30, some 40 years later:

 

And this afternoon, I converted a damaged Tom Meier Fantasy Tribes Troll, which I was gifted, sans axe, to carrying a long hooked spear, bringing the total number of trolls form this range to 33 which has been an eye=wateringly expensive project to achieve. This model will be the leader of the warband.

And that's about it for another week...

 

TTFN