I played video games for 20 years of my lifetime. It started as an escape from my parents constant fighting. Immerse yourself into a game to drown out the screaming. It eventually became a natural coping mechanism and an addiction that would slowly suck the motivation and drive out of me as I grew up. I always managed to get by in life, but life was always put second to gaming. Do just enough work, and maximize play time. I was REALLY good at games, and it felt great. Then college happened. I started struggling, but I had to pass. So I started cheating and manipulating people to get by. It worked, I graduated without a single shred of self worth that I had actually earned my diploma.
I landed a good job, moved to a new city. I was saving a lot, but made no new friends. I worked from home, I LIVED at home. I was always home. So were the games. I'd binge on weed to get to sleep, the thinking voice in my head never shuts up otherwise. My emotions would run wild randomly, I'd have breakdowns for no reason, particularly in airports. I think my body knew when it was heading back home. You start to question if really there is something wrong with you. Nah, you're just being dramatic. They would all think you're just making it up. People cry every so often. I would ask myself how I could be so miserable with myself. People would kill to be in as fortunate position as I was in.
The last 3 years of my life it peaked into a sad depressive repetitive cycle of merely existing. Some days I wouldnt get out of bed until 2pm. Sleeping felt great, because I wasn't living. I had weeks where I wouldnt leave the house, only because I ran out of food. Work was slow, I felt like I had no impact. I had no impact. Even responding to emails caused anxiety. Meanwhile the guilt building that I was getting paid to be a fuck up. I stopped caring, you feel nothing. I struggled, hating it more and more each day. I'd play games instead. I lost touch with reality, I was becoming scared of people. I had anxiety trying to pick up the phone to schedule a dentist appointment.
One day stoned out of my mind, stressed out and depressed from all the failure I surrounded myself in I had this exact realization.
Your 500 hours in Skyrim are nothing but numbers sitting on your computer's RAM.
No one cares. I have nothing to show from all those years. There are things I couldve been amazing at in the time I wasted. These games are supposed to be making my happy, it's fun. Yet all they've done is been in the way of everything I ever wanted to be. The curator of all the stress and problems in my life. I had talents that I excelled in when I was younger that had since disappeared. I broke down at the regret of how much time and opportunity I wasted. I found support forums, people who had similar experiences. I wasn't alone.
I quit games on the spot. I'll be a month free in 3 days. Things are up and down, but the difference in feelings I have is immeasurable. It's unbelievable the way depression controls you're thinking.
The most ironic thing, I couldnt even embrace being a gamer. I feared the label of being nerdy, it's uncool. Why did I ever do it?