My drug of choice: Video games
More specifically competitive games.
Back when I graduated from middle school, I had been playing video games with my old friends for a while. I played CS:GO, a first-person shooter, in which your objective is to set up a bomb in another person's base. It was fun with friends, and it made me feel like I was a cool gamer girl, a lady whom all the boys flock to. I also enjoyed the competitive nature of the game, always fighting for a win and a higher rank in the game. I came from a family of 3 brothers, and I often felt like I had to fit in. I tried to do so via video games, which are still dear to my brothers.
I wanted to play with my older brother, who was always distant due to his own depression. He played loads of Dota 2, a tower defense game where your objective is to infiltrate the other team's base and destroy their Ancient, which is a building in the middle of their base. He had suggested to me to try out the game and was even willing to show me how to play Dota 2, which is known to take quite a few hours to even learn the basics of. I was thrilled to be able to hang out with my big bro. I started to grind at the game, soon finding its competitive side, and being absolutely hooked. I remember I had a blog about the characters of the games, in my activity center I would stitch my favorite characters from wool and mattress foam and I would draw loads of fan-art. I made friends online and I had a great time with the game.
I also believe that the game was what hindered me from healing my mind and body. I had trauma from my childhood and youth, and my mental health had deteriorated in the last few years. I used Dota 2 as an escape from reality, and instead of going to my activities, I would often plant my butt on the computer and play for 12 hours straight. During that year, I racked over 1,000 hours in the game. That is almost three hours a day, which doesn’t sound that bad until you realize it is every single day of the year, which means I would have days where I didn’t have time to play and days where I would forget to eat because I would constantly press ‘New Game’. It was a distraction, a way to hide from the anxiety, fear, mood swings, and depression that lurked over me. After a while, a new game was released that got my heart.
Overwatch is an objective-based game, where you accomplish tasks while keeping the enemy from stopping you. It had me in a heart-beat. While I never formed as much of a community around it, it was still a very intoxicating game. As soon as I reached the required level to join the competitive field, I was playing this game every day for hours. Again, my other responsibilities were left to the side and for the longest time, I would often avoid going to places just to be able to play.
All this lasted until 2019 when I realized it was up to me to take control of my life and stop ruining it by wasting my healthy youth sitting in front of a computer. I’ve had relapses every now and then. I would end up in a depressed mood because of my cyclothymia, and I would start looking for ways to escape the pain. I am thankful that the worst it got was video games. Yet it was uncomfortable. I felt bad when I wasn’t playing, and would even avoid spending time with my boyfriend to play Overwatch.
My latest relapse came to head on Valentine’s weekend. I had recently started to feel depressed again, and against my better judgment started to look for comfort in video games. I hadn’t played Dota 2 since 2017, and I thought it would be harmless. A game here and there isn’t bad for you. But on the 13th of February, while I was spending an amazing day marathoning all the Shrek movies with my boyfriend, all I could think about was: “I wish we could be done soon so I could go back to playing.” The guilt I felt was horrible but I couldn’t help it. Nevertheless, I was able to spend a fantastic day with my boyfriend. The next day, on Valentine’s day, I went to have brunch with the ladies of my family. I had a great time and barely thought of the game, even considering working out once I got home. But as soon as I got home, my laptop glared at me, and I couldn’t help myself. I played for over 5 hours straight.
Once I was done, my stomach ached, I felt nauseous, my eyes rapidly moved from side to side and my back ached so bad I had to lay on a hot water bottle for an hour to ease the pain. My head rang empty, only the sound effects of the game chiming in the back of my skull. At some point, I started to cry. The tears kept welling up, and I heaved through my pursed lips. My brain felt like it was being dragged through the mud. It was like I had overdosed in gaming. Despite all this, I articulated to my boyfriend for the first time ever how video games made me feel. It was the same as when I had stopped smoking. The craving would hit so strong that you wouldn’t care about the consequences. You just had to get the fix. I explained how it was a way to escape the depression. You don’t want to feel those emotions, so you run to anything that eases the pain. You get a hit of dopamine when you win a game after a long losing streak (yeah, I wasn’t very good at the game.) It was like a drug.
On Monday 15th February 2021 I got a sick leave notice from the doctor for a week off school, and I’m rehabilitating myself on the edge of nature at my parents’ house. After this experience, it has become final. If I want to enjoy life without distractions, I can’t give video games another chance. I simply have to come up with healthier coping mechanisms to deal with the highs and lows of my life. It is the right thing to do.
Even so, I really want to play some Dota 2 right about now.
