There’s just something about the Gears Of War series that keeps me coming back. For some fans, it’s the thrill of mowing down enemies with the perfectly designed Lancer; for others, it’s the stickiness of the game’s signature run-and-cover combat mechanics. But what gets me so pumped about the upcoming Gears 5 is that I have a severe glandular disorder that makes it impossible for me to not feel like this.


There’s just no other way to express my abiding love for Gears than this: I have a small tumor on my hypothalamus that physically forces me to feel stoked about the prospect of once again slaughtering the Locust Horde.

Sure, I know the series isn’t known for its killer storyline or character development, but what it does have—in spades—is the ability to turn on a severely broken part of my limbic system that makes me absolutely thrilled if I so much as think about dismembering an enemy with the Buzzkill or a well-placed Bolo Grenade. Even if I just hear the name J.D. Felix, my glands immediately release hormones at such a frantic rate that I begin sweating heavily, I hear ringing in my ears, and my heart races so quickly that I feel as if I might die.


God, I’m amped to finally see this game in action! I wish I could physically stop feeling this way, but I can’t!

While details of Gears 5 are pretty scarce right now, that frankly doesn’t matter to the diseased part of my brain. Pretty much every night of the week, I lie in my bed, unable to sleep because of how nauseatingly manic I am about getting to pick up a controller and uncover the secret of the Locust’s origin. When I close my eyes, all I see is my Buzzkill’s blade dismembering enemy after enemy. I haven’t slept in weeks because of my pathology, and my life has become an absolute nightmare!


Recently, I got so jacked up just thinking about jumping back into Versus mode online that I screamed for 15 minutes in the middle of a local Walmart and had to be escorted out by store security.

Obviously, there are more critically acclaimed shooters out there (the Wolfenstein and Halo franchises come to mind), but there’s something special about Gears in my pathology-ridden mind. In fact, when the 2018 E3 trailer for Gears 5 first revealed that this new entry would star Kait Diaz, I actually vomited on my own shirt out of giddy excitement. It was humiliating and nasty. But rather than go clean myself off in the nearest bathroom, all my deranged brain would let me do was rush back to my hotel room, still covered in my own stomach bile, and watch the rest of the clip on YouTube.


That’s the kind of fan allegiance that Gears Of War and my literal insanity inspires.

I lost my girlfriend because of how pumped-up Gears 5 makes me. My family stopped talking to me after an incident where I kept shaking my frightened grandmother and yelling at her about how much I hope DeeBees appear in multiplayer so I can play as a DR-1 Protector. Really, the only thing I can safely do anymore—the only thing my unhinged mind is capable of doing—is writing articles like this and shaking with a queasy mania as I think about this game’s release.


Well, that’s all I can say about Gears 5 for now. I need to lie down because thinking this much about Cliffy B’s incredible third-person-shooter series for too long is enough to make my heart actually explode inside of my chest. That’s what my doctor told me, at least. God, I hope death finally releases me from this hellish life.

Until then, I’ll keep you updated on all the latest developments of Gears 5 as they come out!