Saturday 20 July 2013

Inside Gearbox - Borderlands

Not too long ago, I decided to like Gearbox software and Borderlands page's on facebook. I wanted to keep up with the latest news and threads from them. Be the first to know. I'm a big Borderlands fan, and always will. But when I saw that my story could be told to the people at the event PAX Australia, about how Borderlands has influence/changed your life, I couldn't resist. I felt like it was something that I could get off my chest. Something that was holding me down. No one would know me, they would have never heard my name before. But when something so much as a game can explain you life, I couldn't miss this chance. I've missed so many before, I wasn't going to let this one slide. I hope you enjoy. This means, a lot to me. 



Borderlands isn't just a game, it isn't square, x, triangle and circle. It isn't just something you play. To truly understand the game you have to know it, feel it, learn from it, believe in it.

My name is Olivia Davy. I'm from England and I'm 19 years old. I am hoping that somewhere in my life that I would live the dreams that I have always dreamt of. But I almost threw it all away. As a 19 year old female life is hard. There are many pressures around you. Peer-pressure, social-pressure, how big you are, how beautiful you look. It's everywhere and we can not escape it. But as of Christmas 2011, these pressures became too much. An unfortunate incident occurred to me, one that I can not fully repeat as it still haunts me to this day. It chills my blood, and goosebumps rise on my back like a scared cat. My life was sucked away, my soul was taken and my mind was shattered. This incident, this event caused a gasping vault of darkness that took over my life. It was like I was eaten by a Leviathan. It was a catalyst to many more empty vaults to open, that darkness shadowing me. It wasn't easy to find the sanctuary that I needed. It took everything I had, and more. What could I do? I couldn't give much more, I had used up all my resources, my pick ups were to advance for me to use. They were useless to me.

People around me were hurting. My cousin was attacked and injured. My father had becoming seriously ill with M.E. There never seemed to be enough feel good needles in those vending machines on this damn planet that could ease the pain. My step mum was in and out of hospital and no shield could protect her. This stress. This darkness. I fell into a deep dark void of severe depression, anxiety and insomnia. I lost my mind, lost who I was, that happiness. I was like a psycho in my own mind. I was put on anti-depressants and still am. I was seeing a psychiatrist to treat the monster inside my head it was crazed midget psycho running around in my head 24/7. It was a huge step to start these sessions, something me and my family had to walk through together. But despite all of that, the struggles to gain entry to the sanctuary that I needed at the end, seemed to be getting harder, longer and smaller. I felt like a suicide psycho. Just at any point I thought fine! Shoot me in the face. No where else, just in the face. Or jump off that cliff or building. Jump in front of the car. It felt like no one cared. Everyone ignored me, I was wandering this deadly plain, and that at any point something would set off the psycho in my head. I felt like the conductor of the poop train. A smelly, disgusting poop train. That if I saw something beautiful, I knew it would only disappear. That it would judge me, think I’m crazy and not see who I am inside. I fell into many of those suicide ruts, the self harm ditches, and the depressive psycho states. I ended up in hospital, just where I wanted to die. I gave my all to everyone, tried to put a smile on people's face, but no matter how much they knew I liked them as friends, they would always ditch me. I've still got the
spare pizza lying around.

I was so alone. I was heading off to Uni in 2012 to start anew. To get to know people like me. Maybe I could even have friends. But no, if they knew what happens behind closed doors, they rather not look at me. It's like I would barf on their face if I went near them. Like I’m a horrible Bonerfart. I just wanted to end it all. That bullet to the face seemed so damn good then.

But, how could I throw it all away when there is still so much more to explore. I haven't even traversed half of the earth. I still need to open my map and see what's still in the fog, explore everything! Show people who I really am. Find the light that I’ve been looking for. Defeat those who pose me. Take them down one by one, like looking through a scope, scouting which one first. As I became the person who I was, I found my family again. Something warm grew inside me. My blood started to thaw, my emotions starting to feel happy. I felt like that crazed midget psycho that had been running around in my head finally had the chance to blow himself up. It hurt a little, but nothing that I couldn't handle. I had to make sure my shields had regenerated and I was fully supplied. I knew I couldn't do it alone, but never had the chance to ask for help. No one wanted to be near me. But I found the road to my sanctuary. Every now and then it disappeared, like it had been phased out and teleported back at a different location. But I knew I’d get there. It was in my sights. Along the road, I met others. People like me. No, no. Not the crazed psychos. People who like the things I do, like shoot bad guys, get feel good needles, and try not to die out there.

With this there were 4 of us in the end. We were a team. We all helped, we all gathered, we all defended what we truly loved. I will never let these people go. I will no matter what always, help them wherever I can. They help me see the light in my own mind, and helped become who I was, releasing me from that dark empty vault I was so lost in.

There was a way for us to go and we went forward. Together. We found our Sanctuary.

So how has Borderlands changed my life? Well everything I have written is true. 100%. But why not tell it in a way that Borderlands and my life intersect. I felt like Claptrap at the beginning of Borderlands 2. Just ditched, alone out in the cold by myself, with no friends. No way to get home unless I get help from some Vault Hunters, to take down Captain Flynt and to take back my ship. I need to let others trust me before they let me into Sanctuary. I need to let them allow me into their shield. Where I could show them, that I would defend them to the death. Show them that they can trust me. I felt like the normal man inside Kreigs head, but could only shout nipple salad to everyone I see. That's when they'd start running. They would laugh at me, like they were laugh at a shotgun midget falling over. I wanted to die like Face McShooty, screaming “SHOOT ME IN THE FACE, JUST THE FACE”, nice quick easy way to go.

Despite all of that. Just wandering around the lands of Pandora, showed me something. No matter how many bad things there are. There are friends by your side. Like Mordecai and Bloodwing (R.I.P Bloodwing). Like Roland and Lilith and Brick as himself! Friendship is hard to come by. But true friends are always there. They will always stick by your side no matter what you say to them. It's what lies deep down. The haven that is Sanctuary is what you make it. It might not be much but it is a lot.

So thank you to my friends and family. My own person vault hunter friends. The rest of Pandora needs to be explored and I wouldn't want to do it without them. This is a quest with endless loot and fun. This is the dream I want, this is the dream I'll live, this who I am. This is how I tell my story, through the power of Borderlands, something close to the heart, and something so magical.

So here I am. Olivia Davy, 19 years old, Game Art Student. Living in the dream I never thought possible before Borderlands, and hoping in the near future that those people at Gearbox, who created this magically piece of Art, that maybe I'll be apart of. Thank you. Thank you.


Hey, maybe I'll make another dream come true and get a dog. Yeah. I'll call him Dukino.