The “Overnight Success” Is Usually 5 Years Old — Keep Building

The “Overnight Success” Is Usually 5 Years Old — Keep Building

 

 Let’s be honest — every time we see someone suddenly blow up online, our brains go, “Wow, lucky guy!”
But if you dig a little deeper, you’ll find that “overnight success” took about five years of trial, error, and frustration behind the scenes.

I’m not even gonna lie — I’m still in that building stage myself. This isn’t one of those “I made it” speeches. It’s more like, “Yo, I’m still figuring this out, but I’m learning what actually matters.”

The Long Game Isn’t Glamorous

Most people quit because they get bored before they get good. It’s not fun when no one’s watching your content, or when your live-stream only has two viewers — and one of them is your cousin.
But that’s exactly where the real growth hides.

The grind phase teaches you consistency, creativity, and how to keep showing up when the hype dies down.
That’s the part nobody posts on Instagram — the unfiltered side of building something real.

My “Still Building” Era

I’ve started treating every upload, every stream, every post like practice.
Because it is practice. I don’t have a big studio or a budget, but I have time, internet (on a good day), and the will to improve.
And lately, I’ve started seeing the progress — not in views, but in confidence, better jokes, smoother edits, and bolder ideas.

This “overnight success” thing? It’s a five-year recipe. And I’m still preheating the oven.

Keep Showing Up

Here’s the truth: no one’s going to come hand you a shortcut.
You’ve got to build when it’s quiet, grind when it’s boring, and stay focused when it feels slow.
Then one random day, someone will say, “You came out of nowhere!”
And you’ll just laugh — because you know it took years to “come out of nowhere.”

So, keep building. Keep learning. Keep creating.
One day, your “overnight success” story will be five years old too.

 

It’s Just Juice on a T-Shirt (And Other Life Lessons)

 Here’s something I just found out recently: The Coffee Spill Philosophy

The other morning, I was rushing out the door when it happened—juice, everywhere(Well its called Coffee spill philosophy but for me it was Juice).. All over my T-shirt. Right before I had to leave.

For a second, I froze. My brain went straight into drama mode: Well, that’s it. The whole day is ruined. I can’t show up looking like I wrestled a juice box and lost.

I started to get frustrated, but then I caught myself. What was I really upset about? A stain? A five-minute delay? I laughed, grabbed another T-shirt, and headed out. No one noticed I was late. No one cared what I was wearing. The world kept turning.

And that’s when it clicked: this wasn’t about juice. It was about how we handle the little things.

So many times in life, we blow small problems way out of proportion. We miss the taxi, drop our phone, forget to buy milk, or send a text with a typo—and suddenly it feels like everything is falling apart. But when you look back later, those “disasters” barely register. They’re just tiny hiccups in an otherwise normal day.

The truth is, life is full of spills. You can’t stop them. But you can decide how much power they get over your mood. Instead of letting a small mess take over your whole day, you can laugh, clean it up, and move on.

It’s simple, really: don’t give small problems more weight than they deserve. Most of the time, it’s just juice on a T-shirt.

And if it’s just juice on a T-shirt, it’s not worth your peace of mind.

How Gaming and Anime Binging Saved Me During My Darkest Days

Part 2: The Night I Almost Gave Up (And How My Son Saved Me Without Even Knowing)  

This is the part of my story I never planned on sharing. Honestly, I almost deleted this draft more times than I can count. But if even one person out there is where I was, then you need to read this.

If you read Part 1 of my story, you know how gaming and anime binging carried me through the storm of 2021. I lost my job, bills piled up, and with a baby on the way, rejection after rejection crushed me. Fortnite became my escape. Attack on Titan and One Piece became my fuel. I even leaned on a simple gaming chair and collected small anime figures as tiny lifelines to keep me moving forward.

But here’s the truth I didn’t tell you in Part 1—something darker. Something that almost ended my story before it could really begin

The Breaking Point

It was one of those nights when the silence felt heavier than the bills stacked on the table. Another “we regret to inform you” email had just lit up my phone. I stared at the screen, then at the dark ceiling above me.

And the thought hit: Maybe my family would be better off without me. Maybe if I unalived myself, they could at least claim something from death funds or pension.

It scared me how logical it sounded in the moment. Like maybe disappearing would be less painful than failing again. But then I heard it.

The Cry That Pulled Me Back

From the crib came the faintest sound—my son, just 2 months old, letting out a tiny cry. I walked over, picked him up, and held him against my chest.

That moment shattered everything. 

He was so small, so fragile, and yet in my arms he felt like the strongest anchor in the world. The truth hit me harder than any job rejection ever could: if I gave up, he’d never know me. He’d never laugh with me while we beat pixelated turtles on our retro console. He’d never sit beside me learning Mario’s jumps or Contra’s chaos.

If I left, his story would start with loss. And I couldn’t let that be his first chapter.

The Shift

That night didn’t magically erase the pain. I still drove Uber. I still faced rejection emails. But I kept going—because now it wasn’t just about me. It was about being there for him.

Every time I sat in my gaming chair, controller in hand, I reminded myself: losing isn’t the end. You respawn. You hit continue. You keep playing.

Every time I looked at my little shelf of anime figures, I reminded myself: every hero I admired fell, struggled, but stood back up again. Why should I be any different?

My son gave me the reason. Gaming and anime gave me the tools. Together, they kept me alive.

The Life Lesson

Here’s what I’ve learned: Sometimes we don’t survive for ourselves. Sometimes we survive because someone—maybe a tiny 2-month-old who can’t even say your name yet—needs us to.

So if you’re reading this, and you’re in that dark place thinking you don’t matter, let me be living proof: you do. You matter more than you’ll ever realize.

Because one day, someone—your child, your partner, even a stranger—might need your story to remind them to keep going.

For me, it was my son. He saved me without ever knowing. And now, every time we fire up that retro console, laughing at pixelated chaos, I know for sure: choosing to stay was the best decision I’ll ever make.

Game on, little man. For you, I’ll always hit continue.

How Gaming and Anime Binging Saved Me During My Darkest Days

I'm Skinnyhatchett, but online, I've got like a million different gamer tags. A few years back, during the whole crazy COVID thing in 2021, my life totally crashed. I lost my job, cash was super tight, and with a baby on the way, every no thanks email from jobs felt like a gut punch.

I'll be real—I thought about just giving up at one point. The feeling of letting my family down and just not being good enough almost did me in. But instead of just giving in, I found a weird way out: gaming and anime.

Fortnite, Escape, and a Whole New World

I totally remember the first night. Bills were stacked on the table, my girl was asleep, and I was just staring into the dark. Out of nowhere, I downloaded Fortnite. What started as just one quick game turned into hours of crazy fun, laughs, and—most of all—a break from all the stress. I wasn't Skinnyhatchett, the jobless soon-to-be dad. I was a player, building stuff, surviving, and laughing with random folks all over.

To make those late-night times a bit easier, I got a gaming chair. Nothing fancy, but sitting there, back comfy, keyboard and mouse, I felt like maybe I could make it through another day.

Anime Nights: Some Hope in Each Show

When I wasn't gaming, I watched anime. Shows like Attack on Titan and One Piece gave me something real life wasn't giving me at the time—hope. Watching characters mess up, fight hard, and get back up was huge for me. If Eren could keep going no matter what, why couldn't I?

I started grabbing little anime figures. Just plastic reminders to be brave and keep going, but when I saw them, they kept me pushing. They were more than just decorations—they were like anchors.

Driving Forward (For Real)

The money issues didn't just vanish. I still got turned down for jobs a ton, so I started driving for Uber. At first, it felt like I was failing—but soon I saw that the drives gave me time to think, to dream a bit. Between rides, I'd put on my headset, play some anime music, and just let it take me away. Little by little, I started to find a middle ground between just getting by and still finding some fun in life.

Being a Dad and Old-School Games

When my son came along, I knew I wanted to give him something good. Not the crummy feeling of being turned down, but the fun of playing and imagining stuff. I got a retro console, loaded with classics like Mario and Contra, and when he was old enough, we sat together laughing at those blocky turtles and crazy jumps.

Those times helped me heal more than any job offer ever could.

But Then Something Clicked…

Gaming and anime didn't just get me through it—they sparked something bigger. Something I never saw coming.

Because one night, while playing more Fortnite and watching more anime, I got an idea.

An idea that could change everything.

👉 And that’s where the real story starts… Stay tuned for Part 2.