The Sanity File
Field report on turning breakdowns into ammunition.
And sometimes, when it feels like nothing remotely salvageable came out of an experience — bam! Support artillery comes out of nowhere and drags me out of the trench.
My Master’s Degree in Game Design experience could have ended so differently.
“What a waste,” I’ve grunted at the mirror more times than I care to admit.
No diploma. No final paper. Not even a finished thesis.
Just the ghosts of late nights and a few faint connections — not quite friends, but figures that lingered in the background.
Then, this January, one of them reached out. Completely out of the blue.
And did so, crazily agitated — like a man counting wet bills with frostbitten fingers.
He said he desperately needed my musical services.
Once he caught his breath, I got it.
He was trying to impress the brass — wanted the higher-ups to notice, to see his spark.
I suppose we all act the same when the spotlight turns our way.
You gotta stack those wet bills for the boss, and keep ’em dry, right?
So when the opportunity came, he lunged for it like a squirrel packing for a family picnic.
They were stuck. Every position filled, yet no one to handle the music — on short notice and an even shorter budget.
So my name was thrown into the mix like Frodo’s ring into Mount Doom.
He sold me like a Ferrari going cheap, told me to apply immediately, and to include a psychological evaluation — that being the “magic” that could increase my chances tenfold.
IInstant flashbacks.
During the game-design degree, we were told to turn in our final weekly projects every Sunday at midnight to simulate industry pressure. Real-life stuff.
That kind of schedule breaks people.
But some of us want this too badly to crack.
Funny thing is, I didn’t listen.
I figured that being on such a rush, the music (and my friend’s godly PR skills) would do the talking.
Papers were sent — evidently, without the suggested “magic.”
Never heard back from them.
And my friend? I guess Sauron got his phone, because he vanished too.
Still, I checked their site later — saw production was well underway.
Snuck into the composer’s Bandcamp.
Alright, fine — competitively compared my work to his.
And yeah, I could have done a damn good job there. I know it.
Oh well. You live, you learn.
So in May, I finally took the psychiatric evaluation — don’t know if that was the defining issue that let the opportunity slip between my fingers, but I’m not taking any chances ever again.
This little file will now be readily available out there, just in case I ever need a bit of “magic” to land a shot at video-game glory.
Looking at the results though, even more so.
If anyone ever finds themselves needing to assess my ability to think, act, and communicate rationally like an intellectually sane and capable individual, then here it is — ready for anyone to download.
After launching this site in September, it’s time to start chiseling.
Because no matter what they throw at you,
it’s never the sword that wins the battle —
but the hand that guides it.
(— line shamelessly authored by yours truly, C.Bevan)
Visit the section The Armoury to download the psychiatric evaluation.
