Close Encounters of a Warped Mind

Dem pitchurs that I draws

[snappedcontroller]

The End

The End...Sort of

With the renewal of the website due in January, this will be the last strip for Snapped Controller.  While I have enjoyed (understatement) drawing the strips and improving my work over the last 4 years (4!  WOW!) I can’t afford to continue doing this out of my own pocket, so I’ll be setting up an archive of all the strips that I’ve done over the last few years and closing this site.  I want to…

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CSPies

CSPies, A Christmas story i started a few months back

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[mikey-neumann-blog]

To Stay Out of That Boat

I cried the entire way home from work today and not just a normal amount of tearing up like when you’re listening to an Adele record, but a full on ugly-cry Claire Danes blubbering mess. One generally hits this level of helplessness when multiple factors conspire against them in a perfect storm. I have to run through what’s happening to me piece-by-piece to fully articulate the volume of bullshit I’m currently dealing with.

Now that I am safely home, I am saying this publically to hold myself to something I should have already done. As of a few months ago, I see about 40% of what a normal human sees, and this is exacerbated at night. I am fully convinced it is no longer safe for me to drive at night. I’m not entirely sure it’s safe for me to be driving at all. I have to concentrate three times as hard on high-contrast lights in the darkness and I’m not sure I can actually process, spatially what is happening around me. I dodge things that aren’t there. I miss things that are.

And it’s god damn terrifying. I just can’t do it anymore. Not with all the honking and people cutting me off because I’ve someone enraged them by exercising caution, for all of our safeties.

I’ve put this off because I work in a city that I don’t live in. When Gearbox was still in Plano, it was a short enough drive, down safe enough side streets, that I generally could handle. Now that my sight is worse and the side streets have a minimum speed of 55mph, this is just not something I can digest. I’ve no doubt that Gearbox in their infinite patience with me will help figure out how to transport me to and fro, but it always feels like an embarrassing neediness on my part that seemingly has no end.

This is a never-ending source of fear and anxiety.

Going further, food is currently my enemy, and if you know me at all, you know how much I cherish food in my life. I simply cannot digest it and work it through my body well enough to defecate it from within me. That’s the purpliest, prosaic way to say I cannot poop. The longest I’ve ever gone without dropping a deuce in the porcelain think-tank was seventeen days. Believe me when I say that no human should have to experience this. 

People smile at me. 

I smile back.

But inside, I’m screaming in pain, all the time, without end. 

It’s exhausting. 

And since I can’t control most of my biological functions as it is, should I manage to expel this waste from its colonic prison, it’s often into my pants, at work. I don’t have to tell you how monumentally embarrassing that is (though, I’ve shared more than a few stories of this ongoing issue). 

My lemonade delivery function is the exact opposite problem. I try not to drink liquids within four hours of my bedtime, but a lot of good it does me. I wet the bed more than half the days of the month. Do you know what that’s like at a hotel? I sleep on a mountain of towels. A guest at someone else’s house? Mostly I flatly refuse, but if it’s unavoidable, we have to have a conversation and come to an understanding.

If you’re aware of my heater problems from last week, then suddenly my insistence of roughing it out in a freezing, heater-less house makes a lot more sense. I am just too filled with anxiety to ask. Which makes me weak, because no one that offered would have been anything but a limitless fountain of understanding. 

Some days I don’t drink anything at all. I’m just too scared.

This is also a never-ending source of fear and anxiety. 

Ignoring around ten other ways my body consistently falls under the control of multiple sclerosis, we haven’t even gotten to the depression that wraps itself around my throat so tightly I can’t breathe. I don’t mean that it feels hard to breathe; I mean, I literally can’t breathe. 

This was exasperated around the time that the two most important friends in my life exited it for very different reasons. My rocks, my angels, my lights: no longer. 

This is a blow I wouldn’t wish on my (theoretical?) enemies (I don’t think I really have any enemies). 

It makes you doubt yourself, substantially. I understand that my never-ending My Chemical Romance Black Parade isn’t the easiest thing to hear about, but I need some outlet. So, here I am, clawing at the limitless well of internet goodwill in an attempt to feel better, if only for tonight, if only for a moment, if only to feel the desire to even be alive.

And that’s always the rub with depression, isn’t it? It builds and builds and builds, like a hook in your cheek, pulling you into a boat you desperately want to avoid, because if you land in that boat, you die. 

So you fight the boat.

You charge and lunge and cry and pull and fight, god, do we fight to stay out of that boat. 

Fuck that boat.

Fuck that stupid boat that claims so many of us for no other reason than that depression has a quota to fill. I see so many people I care about and love deeply claimed in its icy grasp, some that were unable to escape it and succumbed to it and are no longer with us. 

Which brings us to honesty because I waited to say this. I was on vacation over the weekend, and even though it was amazing spending so much time with my family, I was in pain almost the whole time, constantly afraid that I would shit myself in a pulsating cloud of hundreds of inebriated people, in the middle of a casino. So in crept the fear. Fear that it would happen at any moment and my only option would be to curl up on the floor and hope that the boat would float by and claim me, because in that atmosphere, I can think of no solution that did not end in a level of embarrassment that even I cannot fathom. 

Fuck that boat. 

There’s so much joy in me. So much joy I spend my life trying to spread and grow in others. But sometimes I fall down, and this time, I fell down really hard.

  I want to be alive more than any of you know. I love being alive. But right now, I feel too tired to keep moving and I don’t really know what to do.

So, for now, I’m going to swim away from that boat, like I always do.

Won’t you all swim away from it with me?

[snappedcontroller]

I can't even imagine that fear, sir. I can't lie and pretend I know how you feel. But I can say you relieve so much levity for me with everything you put out. And doing this with that pain inside makes me ashamed when I think of quitting the projects I have. I will swim with you, sir.

[snappedcontroller]

Boris, A gaming phenom

A while back we found this Russian dude that said he’d do ANYTHING, for money so we gave him a quid and made him play some games. if you like the videos, like and share and we’ll find him and force him to make more  

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Why I Don't Care About Halo 5

Remember Halo?  Of course you don’t I’m probably talking to a foetus in an test tube, who thinks Halo started at Halo 3, and the 3 was just “quirky” like Fallout 3.  I remember Halo. I got it free with my Xbox, the first one, or first, “ONE”, which I had in turn bought for the top down hack and slash D&D Heroes, me an my mates loved a good co-op and that seemed like fun (it was).  It was only…

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Hashtag Confusion

Hashtag Confusion, just make sure you get those hashtags right people, just as @pattonoswalt #comic #webcomic

Watch those hashtags guys and girls

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Metal Gear Solid V Unzipped

Metal Gear Solid V's new DLC offers a jumpsuit that can be unzipped for a tactical advantage #Comic #webcomic

The new DLC for MGS V offers a jumpsuit for female online characters where the zip can be “unzipped for a tactical advantage”.  Ironically the people that will buy this are the people that will fall for the distraction.

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Gaming Chat

Gaming Chat a podcast to finish the week

Don’t forget you can get in touch with the podcast at [email protected]

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Obama. Putin. 2016

Obama. Putin. 2016. ISIS should be shitting themselves #LethalWeapon #comic #webcomic cc @POTUS

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New Dress

New dresses in store are never the same as new dresses at home, right ladies #comic #webcomic

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Iliza Shlesinger

Iliza Shlesinger, an incorrect response #webcomic #comic cc @iliza

I used to think like this, I’ll admit that.  back when I was a teenager.  I’m an idiot I know, not long into my twenties I saw Joan Rivers do a set and my god, she was fucking hilarious.  Then I saw Nina Conti, Sarah Millican of course and a few others that didn’t stick to the tired female routines of periods and being female.  Most recently I found the American comedian via YouTube, Iliza…

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You Slept With Your What?

Oh dear...just Jesus Christ. A Podcast

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Hitman Agent 47 - Part 4

Hitman Agent 47 - Part 4 the finally of this nonsense

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The progression of seeing a doctor

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Hitman, Agent 47 - part 3

Hitman, Agent 47 - part 3 More nonsense with a panda #comic #webcomic

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Hitman, Agent 47 part 2

Hitman, Agent 47 part 2 #comic #webcomic

Kill a Panda with a melon baller…why not.  If you want to know how we came up with this nonsense, check out the podcast through the link over on the left there, it#s one of the recent episodes

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[snappedcontroller]

Hitman, Agent 47 part 1

Hitman, Agent 47 part 1 #comic #webcomic

This week’s strips are an excerpt from a made up mission from the Hitman franchise.  The mission, and indeed the strips, are mostly nonsense.

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