I know this post is too long. I’m writing it anyway. This post is me dealing with burnout in my 30s. One of the reasons my blog posts become so long, bloated, and unreadable is my inability to focus. After years of digital content creation, the fear should have numbed and faded by now. That […]
I know this post is too long.
I’m writing it anyway.
This post is me dealing with burnout in my 30s.
One of the reasons my blog posts become so long, bloated, and unreadable is my inability to focus. After years of digital content creation, the fear should have numbed and faded by now. That monster is still there. I’d say I’m fighting imposter syndrome, but don’t you have to be successful for it to qualify as imposter syndrome? For one reason or another, I can’t focus.
I’m not scared of failing; I live as a failure every day. Maybe it’s not the failure. It’s what comes after. Those feelings are like the aftertaste of diet soda. Self-doubt and the feeling of inadequacy are mobs that respawn in a recurring daily quest; you have to battle them every day. Not everyone is Kobe Bryant; I can’t dunk a basketball. People called him crazy because of his self-belief; maybe he was? I just want to stay in my underwear and hide under the covers all day.
I wrestled with that feeling in my last post as well. The fear of living an average and forgettable life follows me like a shadow. Statistically, I’m probably close to the middle of that bell curve. At my core, I know that I’m your middle-of-the-road, or likely slightly below par, 21st-century chud. Is it normal to stumble my way through modern life? My efforts to crawl to the top of that curve and snowboard into the ranks of the high performers haven’t gone so well.
“What the Hell is Water?”
The good things in my life might be like emotions my autistic brain can’t read. Like a language I don’t recognize. I’m probably just missing the meaning. Sometimes I feel like a drone. The system and my own habits hold me hostage. The only time I feel I’m human is when I fuck something up really bad. Otherwise, I might as well be an NPC, stuck in a software loop repeating the same actions.
Wakeup.
Work.
Eat.
Sleep.
Repeat
Apparently, what we do on boring days is what allows us to win. Frankly, most of life just feels like vanilla ice cream, too plain to remember. When the stakes are high and I’m under pressure, I drop the ball. In the sink or swim moments, I’m drowning. Though right now, it feels like I’m treading water more than anything else.
I’ve written a lot of posts about feeling jaded; maybe it’s a conscious choice to remain playful, curious, and optimistic. I have to fight with myself to “show up” every day. This is where I’d put some inspirational quote about making any sort of progress. Or I could just show you that I’m making the effort. Sometimes just showing and doing something is better than running your mouth. . . or typing words.
Why a Normal Life Doesn’t Feel So Bad Anymore
I used to hate the idea of a normal life.
Now?
It feels like a luxury.
Same hours.
Same Desk.
And the Same Routine.
No chaos.
No moving around.
With all the chaos life has thrown my way, there’s something comforting about a routine amid the storm. I’m tired of life on tour. Having a regular job with fixed hours every week is an invisible luxury. Similarly, after working in a factory, I appreciate the comfort behind a desk a lot more. Every week I work my hours, and during my downtime I make the effort to produce something. During my days off, I spend time with my family, pet my dog, or hang out with my friends. I think I’ve settled into my new normal.
Despite wanting more, I’m living a rich life. Not a wealthy one, but valuable in other ways. There’s a mix of laughter, tears, disagreements, and awkward pauses. It’s weird how chores, dishes, and errands can erode what little time you have left, but perhaps this regular life is good. I always hear it’s a good thing to be regular, but I think that statement refers to your bowel movements.
The most exciting thing that’s happened on the job is a drug user tried to enter our building last week. . . that’s enough excitement for me.
Friday Funday
I slept in.
Of Course I did.
Without structure, I disintegrate.
Dragging myself out of bed feels like a win.
Every other Friday, everyone in my house has the afternoon off. We usually go out for dinner. It’s a tradition my grandma started in the Philippines; we decided to have our own Friday Funday in America. Sadly, this week my mom was working, so I had Friday alone. When I have no obligations to keep me accountable, I tend to sleep in. I’m convinced I’m one of the people who have the night owl gene.
I felt a sense of guilt for giving up hours of my life to the sleep gods. By the time I managed to drag myself out of bed, I had to rush to set up my computer for my therapy appointment. I also managed to make my room and myself look presentable enough to talk through my problems.
This therapy session was more about sharing positive things; however, it was a new experience for me to feel this optimistic about life. All the fires in my life were still there. I was severely unskilled, and I still had no idea where I wanted to go. But things felt lighter. Despite my pessimism, maybe things would eventually work out.
Brain Chemistry
I’ve always been afriad of psyciatric meds.
Not Surgery.
Not Stiches.
Just. . . this.
So what’s different with the brain? My fear stems from our poor understanding of the brain and bad stories about people on psych meds. I think my fear also comes from the impact that drugs, prescription or otherwise, have had on my extended family. While I’m usually game for experimenting and optimizing, using your own brain for that seems scary.
Fears aside, I ended up seeking health advice and starting medications for depression and ADHD. They don’t make a pill for Autism yet. A couple of weeks in, I feel like the harsh feelings of constant doom have faded into the background of my brain. They are still there, just far less noticeable. It was almost as if those dark thoughts were a layer, and I just turned the opacity slider down. Placebo or not, that’s probably why things felt lighter.
Sakuracon
That weekend felt different.
Lighter, in the moment, more joyous.
After all the time and money spent on becoming Ferris Argyle, it was worth it. Over those two days, there were ups and downs, but everything felt elevated. I think it’s one of those moments I’ll look back on fondly—one of those weekends that reminds you you’re alive, separate from everyday life but still tied to it
Maybe it was only so awesome because the rest of my life is so boring. If there were a con I went to every week, they wouldn’t hit the same.
Sakuracon deserves its own post, so look out for that!
Neighborhood Walk Party
One Text is all it took.
Wanna go for a walk?!
Neighbor and Friend
After my appointment, my day was filled with cleaning, errands, and other chores. I was looking for any excuse not to continue.
Moments later, I felt the warm sun on my face. A group of three dogs trotted in front of me, sniffing random things along the way. The dog on my leash kept checking back to make sure I was following. Before having a pet, I thought dogs were more or less the same, but my dog, Diana, was an introvert. More worried than happy, she kept her distance from the adorably energetic and derpy French Bulldogs. The sound of wheezing permeated the air as the little Frenchies made their way down the path.
My neighbor felt more like a little sister to me. We walked and talked while the dogs explored beside us. My friend and I had a similar temperament, so talking came easily—especially since we were in similar places in life. We were both searching for higher-paying jobs in a shit job market after leaving toxic work environments. I still felt guilty for choosing myself and my own happiness, but I shouldn’t.
We laughed, joked about the cost of living, caught up, and watched the dogs do their thing. A moment to breathe in the middle of everything. Don’t get me wrong—I’d love to live out my wild dream. Lately, I’m wondering how shallow those big dreams are. Did I want those things because society told me they would make me happy?
Just Deal with It
Halfway through one of my friend’s stories, my dog’s body language shifted subtly. Having been around her long enough, I was starting to become adept at reading her signs. Diana was going to drop a landmine. I sighed as she took the all-familiar squat, one of the more awkward, less glorious parts of ownership. Apparently, dogs look at their owners when they poop. The soul-piercing stare was a leftover instinct from before they were domesticated. They’re looking for safety when they’re vulnerable, with you as their ‘pack leader’. I still find it terribly awkward locking eyes with a defecating animal.
I let out a sigh as I reached for the poop bags. At least she pooped in a spot where it was easy to pick up. I let out another exasperated breath as I looked at the pile of poop. She normally used ground shrubs, making it harder to collect. I was able to compartmentalize it, but another part of my brain still found it gross.
You gotta deal with shit sometimes.
I wonder what the dogs think about us collecting their poop. When walking dogs—and in life—you’ve just got to deal with shit. Not all moments in life are beautiful.
Striking a Balance
As I listened to my friend, I did my best not to give advice and listen attentively. I have a bad habit of wanting to fix things, even though I could barely solve my own problems. But sometimes it’s better just to listen. Which was made easier because we were in similar situations. It was easier to know you’re not the only one going through it.
One of the things that made life a little more bearable was the little poop machine bouncing along. Diana occasionally checked to see if I was walking next to her. We encountered some other dogs along the way. At first, she barked, but with continued exposure, she greeted and eventually played with another dog in the neighborhood.
Dogs are Good For Mental Health
This is probably not news for most people, but joining the care team for the little dog that walked next to me was one of the best things that happened to me. I don’t know if it’s the responsibility of taking care of another living being. Everything that comes with having a dog takes time and effort.
But it’s worth it. Every day when I return home, my dog is so happy she can’t sit still. A little dog bouncing around at the top of the stairs is enough to put a smile on my face.
Getting Better at Games (and Why I Still Feel Stuck)
I’ve been a competitive gamer my whole life.
Before Twitch.
Fortnite
And League of Legends.
It’s been a part of my life since grade school. Shoutout to COD4 Gamebattles. I’ve written about my competitive gaming before—not cohesively, but it’s there in pieces.
Diamond used to mean something.
Now?
It’s just where I’m Stuck
You always end up moving your own goalposts.
I’m Not Bad.
That’s the problem.
The gap between Diamond and Masters is exponentially harder than going from Platinum to Diamond. From here, it’s all about small details and refinement. Between aim training, watching better players, and reviewing VODs, you start to see diminishing returns.
The exciting thing is that when you recognize why things went wrong, that’s where improvement comes from. Today’s session wasn’t as successful as the last, but I still gained some RP. It’s hard to stay positive during the long road of improvement. When my team couldn’t play, I hopped on my silver smurf and soloed a few unranked games. All the work I’ve put in over the years showed in that short stretch.
There’s no Shortcut for Improvement
Gaming has this misconception of being easy. Competitive games aren’t just difficult—they’re demanding. It took years of practice to get to where I am now. If I want to break past this plateau, I need to figure out what’s actually working and what isn’t.
There are times when my mental stack gets overloaded. Just like in life outside of Apex, it feels like there are too many moving pieces to keep track of. Battle royales aren’t just about shooting—they’re about positioning, timing, and managing chaos.
Where I’m Falling Short
Panic.
You’ve felt it before. The heart beating in your chest, the sweaty palms, and the mistakes that can follow it. How do I be more grounded? Perhaps focus is easy to achieve in meditation, but not while gaming.
Another thing I need to improve is my individual skillset. I’m a good team player, but sometimes my risk aversion holds me back, and I fail to press my advantages.
Why This Isn’t Just About Gaming
Improvement itself is something I struggle with—in all aspects of my life, not just Apex. I wish there were a clear roadmap or checklist when trying to level up. Not just for a game, but for life as a whole—like some kind of RPG system.
I can already see the skill trees: art, music, and content creation.
The Danger of Safety
And I think I’ve started to understand why.
It’s easy to stay comfortable. But actually looking at your weaknesses feels like too much vulnerability. It’s uncomfortable, and it validates all the negative talk in your head.
Shortcomings in things like aim are easy to track—there are metrics, data, and routines to improve. But Apex—and life—are much more opaque.
Working Hard vs Working Right
One trap I’ve fallen into is just working harder.
“I’ll just draw every day.”
But shooting darts blindly isn’t a great strategy. Kobe didn’t just practice harder—he practiced differently.
So I changed my Apex routine. I’ll break that down in a separate post.
Is Apex Taking Away Time From Other Things
My therapist asked me that question.
There’s no doubt that if Apex Legends didn’t exist, I’d probably be better at music, art, or maybe further along in my career. But if it wasn’t Apex, it would probably be something else. For some reason, I need something competitive in my life.
It’s similar to what Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi talks about in Creativity —pursuing skills and creative outlets that don’t have obvious external value, but still feel meaningful.
Because competitive gaming feels like that.
It’s as much jazz as it is chess. Plans fall apart. You land with a P2020, get third-partied, somehow wipe a squad, win a 2v3—everything happens on the fly. It’s not just execution, it’s improvisation.
Drift Event
I was late.
Of course I was. . .
Stopped Traffic.
Three Car Pile Up.
One Hour Sitting Still.
In Japan, I tried hard to make car videography and photography work. I thought it would improve my life and career. Some delusional me thought that if I was good enough, I’d be able to work out a job as a cameraman or make enough income to build my own drift car. I am not him tho, no main character energy for me. Going to drift events has been a bit of a sore spot for me. I hadn’t been able to hang out with my friend Nick in a long time and it gave me an excuse to get out of the house.
When I got to the event it was fun just to be around the scene again. It was a bit of an unfamiliar scene as I only knew two people there, but it felt more pure than some of the events I had gone to in Japan. Some of those events felt more about chasing clout than actually sliding cars. But here it was mostly just car guys doing car stuff; it was a breath of fresh air.
Nostalgia
Despite my gripes with the Japanese car scene, I missed it. Seeing the small collection of Japanese cars made me miss the cool but slightly performative events in Nihon. I shook the dust off my camera and began shooting. I was a little out of practice, but I remembered my promise to show up and at least try. It wasn’t my best day filming, but it was fun to be there.
Car talk, the ride-along, and then supporting my friend were the main objectives. I filmed when I could, but the main point of the day was just trying to be present at the event.
Of course, it was only when I got home that I realized I made a slight exposure mistake, noisy shadows was the result. There were also some frame rate flubs. Despite that, I willed myself to sit down and make a couple of videos for my socials. The end result is a hodgepodge of different runs compiled into one with some cinematic storytelling. It was imperfect, messy, and not my best work. I still consider it a small win for trying.
Into the Night
Usually, my Saturday nights are the same answer to the Magic Conch, “Nothing”, but this time I was out to see my favorite DJ again. I went to see him in Canada after the show I went for a fist bump.
He Left me Hanging.
That one stung,
I was fully aware of the unfair expectations I was placing on a person. Maybe he didn’t hear me. Maybe he was just tired from touring. Even knowing all the reasons, it still stung a little bit.I still repped his jersey. I still liked his music. He was still my favorite, so I went to see him.
Although I didn’t consciously realize it at the time, seeing this DJ in Seattle for the first time in the mid-2010s changed the trajectory of my life. I was in a dark place, and the show, the music, and the drinks pulled me out of it for a while. Getting lost in the night. When I went back to school, I downloaded FL Studio and made my first track.
Killing It
My little sister and I met up at the show. Sadly, I couldn’t drink because 1. I was driving and 2. My ADHD medication.In a way, it made me more present. I fell into the groove of the music, atmosphere, and energy yourself. I’m not gonna front—alcohol makes it easier to slip into that pocket and vibe out.
My favorite DJ killed his set; it was better than his set in Canada! In addition, we got to see Said the Sky for the first time. A part of me wishes that I were able to make friends and talk to strangers, but the club atmosphere in Seattle feels weird and awkward… or maybe it’s just me?
The next morning, I woke up to a message on Instagram. To my surprise, it was him. That small interaction made me way happier than it should have. It was my dream to one day be the opening act at one of his shows. As I get older, I realize that probably won’t happen—but I’ll keep making remixes and music anyway, just in case.
Dealing With Burnout in Your 30s Isn’t Linear
My mom and I went to a certain doctor’s appointment, and this is one of those moments where even on my blog, I’m not ready to disclose quite yet, but I also spent a lot of time creating content for socials.I worked on a shabu shabu video, the drift edit, and a few other pieces. Including this one hat, maybe 0.000000000001% of people will read. . . On my to-do list is to create better processes.
Maybe writing logs like this daily helps dealing with burnout in your 30s. Maybe it doesn’t.
Either way, I showed up this week.
That probably counts for something.
Much Love,
LaidbackMarco
