This is going to be the true-life accounts of a cow person, just trying to make it in the world, and his IRL alter ego’s battle through depression and life changes.
You see, on July 7th, one day after my birthday, a good friend finally convinced me to try playing World of Warcraft. Upon getting the 10-day free trial, I was stumped as to what kind of Toon I should make. The guild I was destined to join was Horde, so it limited my options. I finally decided on a Druid, as I have always been fond of nature, and I mean, Shat is a druid, so that pretty much sealed the deal. This pretty much meant I had to be a ‘Cow Person.’ Taurens, the gentle giant of the Horde. My friend started up a Tauren Hunter, and soon we were in the heart of Mulgore–Bloodhoof Village. The breeze coming off the plains and the Kodos, ah, this was home. We spent the first day alive wandering around, doing random quests and taking treks to both Thunder Bluff and Orgrimmar. It was simply epic.
During this time in my real life, a big event was going on. My mother, very ill for years and years, began to take a turn for the worse. She was always in the hospital, and I would only really get to see her once every few weeks. I just kept paying the bills and going to work. I’d get a phone call while in Ragefire Chasm and have to go AFK, so I could talk to her a little before she would go to bed. I would come home to voice mails and get no answer when I called the hospital, my mom was busy sleeping or having test after test run on her. So I would jump on WoW, and my guildies, along with the fine people of Thunder Bluff, would help me not think so much about the fact that there was this horrible aspect of my life, which I held no control over. July slowly rolled by, staying hot as ever while I ran through the Barrens, Ashenvale and many other areas.
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