Did you have that one video game that changed your life? If yes, then how?

This is a repost of a post of mine that I wrote about a year ago about the game Dark Souls.

"Dark Souls came around during a very difficult time in my life. I was struggling with a lot of issues, and was at danger of losing the fight. Depression is a very isolating, empty, tortuous experience. It can leave one empty, husk-like; hollow. It can leave you wishing for death, and indeed, you experience many small deaths for each hour that you experience it.

During the middle of this, I picked up Dark Souls. The idea of a ruthlessly challenging experience that punished the player for any mis-step sounded (not so) oddly appealing in my current state of mind; it sounded as though it might allow me the sense of control that I was craving in my real life and could not obtain. I could control how I experienced the game, and if any negative sequelae occurred, it would be entirely because I'd not been vigilant enough. I could control my environment. At that time in my life, where I lacked any control of outside events, and therefore my internal environment, this was very important.

Everything I was hoping that Dark Souls would deliver, it did. However, what I was not prepared for was how much of a mirror the game would end up proving to be. I'll never forget, after a few uneasy hours of learning the mechanics, I found myself standing outside of the Undead Parish. The sunlight was streaming into the church, and little flickers of ember were falling through the air. Though it was very beautiful, the air was silent, the world was dead. My character was utterly, endlessly, forever alone. The only things inhabiting the world with me were hollow husks of insanity -- murderous souls with nothing fueling their movements other than a blind drive to eradicate other life.

I was struck by this. Then I remembered Solaire and his revelation that many other souls were experiencing the exact same situation in other dimensions. That countless other souls like myself were lingering in emptiness, in loneliness, in terrible perpetuity. I remember being horrified by this thought, enough so to almost have to blink back tears at the concept. I remember thinking "What the fuck is all this for, then? Why do they [the characters in Dark Souls] go on? If it's all hopeless, empty, dead?"

But the story, hidden from sight and only unwoven through careful and constant analysis, began to grab me. Intensely. I couldn't explain why, I just knew I was hypnotized by its silence, its magnificence. So I kept playing. I kept dying. I spent a lot of my waking moments pondering the game and its lore. And that's when I started to truly understand the game, and understand how -- and why -- it was affecting me on such a deep level. The cycle of dying, reviving no matter how horrendous the death... becoming human again -- ever drawn towards the bonfires, towards humanity -- it began to mean something truly special.

As VaatiVidya says: "If you fall down seven times, stand up eight. That's the cry of the undead." This concept sunk its teeth into me and wouldn't let go. No matter how often I died, no matter how far I'd gotten, no matter how much I had lost, my character would always revive and steadily walk out into the hell once more. I memorized every attack pattern, faced down every demon, even the ones that scared the shit out of me. I learned their move sets, their weaknesses -- but most importantly, I learned who I was in relation to them. How I reacted to them, how I summarily either gave up or doggedly tried again. Much like the demons in my own life, these ones kept returning until I had conquered them. And I conquered them by learning how to move myself through them. Turn here, swing here, roll here, kite here. 'This is the set of moves that you need to make in order to get through this,' said the game. 'The barriers will never change. Only you will.'

As Vaati explains: "It's not about life or death. It's about what breaks first -- your will or the barriers that stand in your way."

I'm not ashamed to admit it -- this game has brought me to tears several times. Humbled by its brilliance, its beauty, its philosophy of perseverance in the face of annihilation. But the most amazing aspect of it all?

The multiplayer. All of you, my fellow gamers.

I'll never forget when I got to Anor Londo. It was the first time I'd summoned another player to assist me with a boss. I was getting my ass kicked, and just couldn't kill O&S on my own. So I summoned two Warriors of Sunlight. And it was the most amazing gaming experience I have ever had. Suddenly, three worlds were connected across the void. Soldiers in their own empty worlds, in their own respective hells, were coming into mine to help me face a terrifying and indomitable task. And we did it. We brought them down. And then, in a blink, they were gone. Cast back into the emptiness.

I was humbled by this. And by degrees, I began to realize how it could relate to the outside world. I began to summon help of my own. Counselors, friends, different schools of thought. Am I clear of it yet? Not by a long shot. But does it help take the terror out of facing the demons on my own? Fuck yes.

So, I guess for the TL;DR -- Dark Souls helped to pull me out of suicidal depression because of the lessons it taught. I am endlessly grateful."

/r/AskReddit Thread