Copium In The Form Of Video Games.

Widely regarded as the largest destroyer of a child’s brain, it may be one of the few things that could save lives. Video games started off as a pastime hobby. I was always into playing games because I wasn’t out of the house much. Being stuck within the mundane four walls you’ve seen for every waking moment of your life will force you to dive into a world where the physical is not the boundary, the internet. The internet led me to all sorts of atrocities of mankind, but more importantly, it led me to games, something that started off as a hobby on the side.

It wasn’t until lockdown set in that I had to say goodbye to my daily dose of the sun and was no longer confined due to personal restrictions but because god may have slightly disliked humans for a bit. This is where my personal life went south—but I think everyone’s did. During my time in the god awful lock down, I was forced to get into video games at a more deeper level(unless I wanted to go zen and start meditation at the age of 13????). This was when my mental health reached its insanely deep rock bottom that I didn’t know existed, and this is when video games sort of became an addiction. To call them an addiction would be wrong because as soon as I would’ve found something equally or more stimulating, I would’ve left them.

I’ve spent nights where my parents have been annoyed by my incessant mouse or keyboard going off because I’ve been more immersed in a video game than my own mind. It served as a form of very explicit escapism that was not healthy, but it kept me alive. I know it kept me alive because I know I had no other support system back then to keep me going when I would hit that rock bottom again. Perhaps it was not even that bad on the absolute scale, but as a child, my scale was much lower than what it should’ve been. The intense emotion that I felt was obviously expressed during whatever I played and not in the form of verbal or physical expression but rather literally as how I played. Immersion was something that helped me completely disconnect myself from my identity. I think you would do it too if you hated yourself (is this where an emo band queues in?).

Immersion allowed me to experience emotions and events that I would’ve never felt. Immersion allowed me to become Spider-Man and swing through NYC while fighting crime, and damn, that felt awesome. Immrersion allowed me to play minecraft and completely focus on building stuff or play bed wars until it hit 3 am and my mouse would be fighting for its life trying to hit a higher clicks-per-second record (it survived and I still have the one I used). Immersion allowed me to play every Lego game and feel lighthearted humor that wouldn’t touch a nerve. Long story short, immersion really helps escapism. Noise-canceling headphones and a curved screen are all I needed to forget that everything was hitting the fan 😨.

Of course I wasn’t alone here either. During my time since lockdown, in which I’ve spent years playing games, I’ve made a concerning number of friends from them. I’ve met so many good people without which I wouldn’t know where I would be. This strong sense of community and bonds is exactly what a person needs when trying to get better and get out of a mentally draining hole. Every time we stayed up until 2AM playing a game and absolutely losing our minds by laughing at how bad we were, some part of me healed. I think one of the moments that stayed with me was being online the entire day and building something that I absolutely loved with someone I’m no longer friends with. Moments like these are the ones that stay nailed to a section of your soul until you forget either a part of yourself or them entirely. Friendships don’t need flesh and bones to have the same bond; perhaps the soul can give you a diluted version of the love you need. Maybe that sliver of love is all you need at the moment as well.

I’ve spent years playing games, and I’ve probably even lost a fair bit to play them because of what they meant to me. When I was too little to understand how to talk, video games gave me not only a form of expression but also a way through which I could understand what I was going through. I met people through them, and I met versions of myself that never would’ve existed. I learned kindness, empathy, and compassion and had more humorous moments than I can count (which are private, of course). Luckily with the right crowd, every time I turned my laptop on became a moment of joy and no longer of despair. Laughs were there for fun and not as a necessity for survival. They say time heals scars, but I think that time spent with the right people heals scars more than anything else.