I'm reading some old Codex articles, and stumbled on this interview with Josh from 2002. It seems he always had a problem with self-loathing, constantly unhappy with what he does, but unable to improve on what he considers "failure." Remember that PoE GDC talk? It had similar apologetic tone.
https://rpgcodex.net/content.php?id=24
When I first started working at Interplay, my goal was always to move over to development, climb up the ranks, and work on Fallout 3. Though I had played RPGs and CRPGs all my life, Fallout was the first RPG since the original Pool of Radiance to really kick me in the ass and excite me (Darklands was more of a slow burn). Well, as fate had it, I wound up working on the original Icewind Dale. I wasn't particularly thrilled with how my work on it came out but hey -- one step closer to Fallout 3, man. I then did some work on Heart of Winter, and that managed to actually be worse than my Icewind Dale stuff. Icewind Dale II came out better than I expected, but still, not exactly awe-inspiring. Along the way, I designed the magic sub-system for Torn, gave worthless spell/feat implementation feedback on Baldur's Gate: Dark Alliance, and helped come up with some of the background story for Lionheart. All of this gave me a lot of time to think about the work I'm doing on our unannounced "Jefferson" project (which is not a Fallout title).
It sounds like he has severe emotional issues.
Chris comes off vaguely as someone who partied and absolutely killed it back when the world was relatively normal, and a fun, optimistic place to be. A total brodude that was doing lines off of every secretary in the company's office butts neatly lined up together at his desk, patting his face like it owes him money, and reaching over to his keyboard, "hmm today I will write an extra family quest line in new reno for fallout 2" before shooing the overbearing wenches lest they repeat for the 'nth time that day, "Please Lord Chris, don't move a muscle, we just want to hand down your genes, please, oh please-" and the absolute Chadvellone barks at them "I am MCA! Just who the hell do you think I am?!?!?! Your cuck pussy retard husbands huuuh, huuhhh?! I have a god damn game to write, away with ye, my life's true calling beckons to return to it's service!"
On the other side of the wall in the next room is Josh Sawyer, aka "Soyer," aka, "Sawyer the Turmoiler," or aptly put "Just Josh crying again in the east wing closet." He is frantically impacting the keyboard with his noodley dinosaur arms all limp wristed, and despite working day and night cannot in fact, write something coherent, or lord have mercy, "balance" heart of winter. Josh is slobbering all over himself in ugly phlegm filled sobs, hiccuping because the benevolent and heartfelt Tim Kain whom he has a homosexual crush on, has frankly, got tired to say the least of Josh giving him scenarios written with his manifesto of self loathing and rage. An ugly pigmole hambeast secretary of a "woman" that Chris has not chosen to carry his powerful seed (the inspiration for the enemy of the same name by the way, Chris didn't forget a beast like that) shows up at the door and puts a cup of milk down. Ah, yes, soy, the downtrodden young Sawyer consumed. However unlike the games he designed for, he did not have a strength of 18/21 (or high Resolve, if you will) and dropped it with his shaky hands, all over the ground in a mixed mess of his own semen, tears, and now soy. The bawling only grew, long into the night as the pigmole comforted him with a look of pity rubbing his back...
As all things wound up closer to the current days of Kali Yuga, Chadvellone would become Chris Asselone, after finishing his magnum opus coming to terms with the banality of finite nature of existence: Embodying the "Nameless One" in Planescape Torment, and stepping down from his legacy... forever. The once crowded, passionate stampeding, under the share of design ideas, offices of Interplay vanished with everyone in it.
Except Josh who remains eternally stuck in the cycle of despair, recalling old memories and not in the slightest grateful for the times he had back in the office, and as far as he's concerned, he remains the very same person he was back then, only now he somehow managed to lift a smartphone up long enough to find that Twitter exists.
When will Josh ever learn...?