video games

Where We Go When We Go Nowhere

We’ve landed on a planet that’s completely engulfed in flame, and that’s a good thing. My more experienced space-adventurer friend, Luke, explains that this planet’s superheated fire storms make for perfect storm crystal hunting conditions. Those crystals sell for a lot of units at trading hubs, and I’ve had my eye on several ships to replace my starter vessel.

We wait for an alert to flash across our windshields: “WARNING. Wall of Flame Detected.” Then we take off into the ashy sky in our individual ships, our hulls creaking from the extreme heat of the atmosphere.

Even with our durable exosuits, we can’t last long outside of our ships during these storms. Once we spot the white, glowing crystals on the ground below, we land as close as we can, hop out, and jog through the thick, heat-wobbled air to collect our prizes as quickly as possible.

After the storm passes, we return to one of the few trading posts on this hell-world to exchange our treasures for universal currency. The landscape around the post is charred and unlivable, but on this little platform, members of the local sapient species bumble around, doing their own thing.

Here on planet Novil, that primary species is the Gek. I like the Gek. They’re short and reptilian and kinda cute, for being a bunch of arrogant plutocrats. I like them so much that I’m disguised as one of them. I look like a little yellow lizard in a green jumpsuit.

It me! The lizard of your dreams!

It me! The lizard of your dreams!

Luke, on the other hand, resembles neither the Gek nor the other two primary races in the galaxy. He’s taller than me and has a broad face with dish-like eye sockets and a crown of branching, antler-like appendages. He’s oddly pretty for being an alien mashup of the Forest Spirit from Princess Mononoke and a Furby. Technically, his disguise is more accurate to what we “really” are.

We are both “Travelers,” mysterious beings trying to piece together our own history, and that of the universe. A daunting task, but that’s just how this game goes. No Man’s Sky is massive in both content and concept. It’s a space exploration game with over 18 quintillion procedurally-generated planets to discover.

Just how big is that number? Large enough that it would take you almost 585 billion years to see each planet. So, large enough to be essentially infinite, and definitely large enough to occasionally swamp me with existential dread.

But I can handle a little dread, because I’m playing the game with my friends.

This is part of how I’ve been staying connected with people during the Year of Isolation. Usually, I hate phone calls. I feel uncomfortable and antsy even when chatting with my most beloved friends. I can’t focus on the conversation, and have trouble processing their words, no matter how clear the call is.

But for some reason, when I’m also zipping around in space, shooting asteroids to collect their precious resources, I can chat on a call for hours. Do I still get distracted and lose what I was saying? Oh yeah, definitely. But I get less anxious when that happens. It feels much more like a “normal” conversation with my loved ones. Like we’re all together, just hanging out. And also running from angry robots that want to laser us to death.

As we descend into what promises to be an even more isolating than usual winter, I’m increasingly aware of how vital it will be to keep this little ritual going. I’ve already chucked so many other rituals out the window. I lack the energy and focus for even my favorite activities, like writing. This was a rare November in which I didn’t attempt to reach 50,000 words for National Novel Writing Month, despite my love of the challenge. It was just too much pressure on my exhausted brain.

But video games? No pressure, just digital nincompoopery with my friends? That I can handle. Plus, I need that nincompoopery right now. So much is happening, and I’m overwhelmed and brimming with dread. This year has been so tightly packed with tragedy that it’s hard to hold a conversation that doesn’t circle back to the horror stew in which we all simmer.

So, having a conversation with my buddy Ryan about how the water mechanics work in Minecraft as he, Luke, Alé, and I burrow through cubes of stone in search of diamonds is a massive relief. For a few minutes, I can set aside the brain-scrambling anxiety and focus on karate-chopping giant spiders with my unicorn-themed avatar.

That’s not to say that we don’t hold serious conversations during our play sessions, though. We still chat about the heaviness of this year, and update each other on how our days went, and how we’re feeling. That question, that friendly “how are you doing?”, is sometimes very difficult to answer. In truth, even though I’ve been relatively fortunate this year and have worked hard on taking care of myself, I’m still struggling. Mental quirks that have previously been manageable are becoming disruptive in my work life and at home.

And so it was during one of those play sessions, as my space-lizard persona drifted through the void in their little red shuttle, that I decided to schedule my first voluntary, individual appointment with a therapist.

I’ve been wary of therapy for a variety of reasons. I’ve felt unworthy of it, or like I shouldn’t even bother unless I’m on the brink of a crisis, or that I’m “not allowed” to seek treatment unless I’ve completely exhausted all of my existing coping skills (how am I even supposed to measure that?). I’ve also had some poor therapist matches as a young person, and then as an adult during my bid to save a marriage that didn’t want to be saved. I feared I wasn’t emotionally ready to handle the potential discomfort or outright rejection that could come from a not-quite-right counseling relationship.

This year, the stakes are too high for those excuses. Even with video game playdates with my friends, and occasional, cautious meet-ups, it’s going to be an extra lonely season. When I have nowhere to go, I go inward, and that can be a dangerous and disorienting journey. You see, I start that journey with the intention of knowing myself more fully, so that I may better myself as a person. What tends to happen, however, is that I self-reflect to the point of bullying myself.

It’s a big, overwhelming universe out there. Now is not the time to rip apart the only vessel I have for exploring that universe.

Which is why I’m enlisting outside help.

If you’re feeling lonely and overwhelmed in your own metaphorical spaceship, I encourage you to do the same. Reach out, whether to professionals or to friends. Find new ways to connect to your loved ones. Don’t succumb to the feeling of stagnation. As lonely as you may feel, you aren’t alone. There’s a host of other travelers feeling much the same at the moment.

We can only do our best to make it through. In the meantime, I highly recommend the joys of building blocky Minecraft kingdoms with your friends. I promise it’s much more pleasant than staring at the wall and spiraling into an Extra Large Depression Pit. And if you find yourself spiraling anyway, here’s a link to a place that can help you match up with a therapist.

Good luck, everyone. Be safe, and much love!

A Little Bit of Lightness

What a one-two punch January and February were, huh? I’m inclined to list examples (I mean, other than the fact that I’m posting this in March when I meant to post it at the beginning of February)… but I’m so sick of even thinking about the constant bad news buzzing through my phone. I mean, y’all are seeing this garbage too, right? This isn’t a fever dream initiated by a certain Public Health Emergency of International Concern? Yikes, I guess I let an example slip through after all…

I need to be honest here. My blood is boiling (and not because of a fever). I’m pulled between extremes of emotion: teeth-gnashing outrage at the injustice at the top of all of my news feeds, but also the hopelessness and apathy born of watching horrible things happen every day while all efforts to stop those things are steamrollered.

In summary, this GIF:

Because, look, if I’m not fine, then I'm gonna melt down one of these days. I’m gonna McFreakin’ Lose It in a Kroger, waiting in line to buy my frozen taquitos and baby carrots. I’m gonna wander into a forest and go absolutely feral. I’ll catch fish with my bare hands and eat them raw, Gollum-style. I’ll grow moss on my skin and let snails live in my hair. I’ll become the cryptid I always wanted to be and I’ll probably survive like that for a week and then die from not being fast enough to catch the fish I was planning to eat. Or, more realistically, dysentery.

Fortunately, I’ve developed some coping mechanisms that don’t involve vanishing into the wilderness. I try to keep up with the usual “exercise, eat some veggies, drink water” self-care advice, of course. But sometimes what I really need is just a hearty serving of “feel good.” With that in mind, I’ve compiled a few of the things that have brought me joy recently, and which may do the same for you.

  1. Wandersong

wanderheader.jpg

I actually came across this incredibly endearing game over the summer, but I hop back into it and replay my favorite chapters from time to time because it’s just so, so good for the soul. It’s a puzzle-solving adventure in which you play as a Bard tasked with finding the pieces to a song that will save the universe from being unmade.

You know: light, chill stuff.

But truly. You spend the game singing and exploring beautifully-designed little worlds and collecting friends. It’s sweet and sincere and emotionally gratifying in ways that I don’t wish to articulate lest I spoil the fun of you experiencing the game for the first time.

Wandersong is number one on my list right now because it deals with that sensation of catastrophic overwhelm so well. It’s a familiar feeling: the world appears to be ending, and try as you might, there’s a strong chance that nothing any of us do is going to be enough to save it. But that doesn’t mean you stop putting good back into the universe. You keep singing, and when you can’t find your voice, you trust that your friends will sing for you until you can again.

Also, the Bard is non-binary, which is just… chef’s kiss, ya know? I feel a cosplay coming on.

2. Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

Hi, hello, I’m a sucker for a colorful apocalypse. Kipo is a delightful adventure that takes place in a future filled with giant mutant creatures, frogs in suits, and singing lumberjack cats. Pockets of humanity have survived underground or in the urban wasteland, fearing the sapient beasts that now rule the reclaimed Earth.

It’s super fun, you guys, I promise.

And not only fun! It’s sweet and exciting and I cried, like, 15 times (and there are only 10 episodes out on Netflix so far). But it was the good kind of crying. The, “holy wow, this writing is so delicious” kind of crying.

I don’t care how old you are. This show is a beautiful escape with a BANGIN’ soundtrack. It’s the kind of media I wish I had as a kid, and I’m delighted that it exists for kids (of all ages) now.

3. Just Making Art, My Dudes

Recently, I’ve wanted to spend all my free time burritoed on the couch, watching baking competitions, eating a LOT of dairy products, and slowly spiraling into a dissociative state. I seek constant distractions, and yet feel too tired to really engage with them. Like, you know how Wandersong is at the top of this feel-good list? I love it, it always boosts my mood, and yet sometimes it takes too much mental effort to even play it.

I just wanna sit there, head empty, feeling vaguely miserable about, just, you know, stuff. Whatever.

Leaked footage of my living room on any given weeknight. Source

Leaked footage of my living room on any given weeknight. Source

The thing is, I’ve been DEPRESSED before. Like, BIG DEPRESSED. This isn’t quite the same… That’s not to say it isn’t Depression, but it’s not of the caliber I’m accustomed to. It’s just a relentless fatigue, a whole lotta “I don’t wanna.”

But because of my experiences with Depression, I understand the importance of not letting the exhaustion (or the cheese) swallow me. I’ve set an alarm on my phone that tells me to get up and make something once a day. The goal is 15 minutes of creative productivity. It doesn’t matter if I’m “in the mood” or not. It gets me off the couch. Or, if not off the couch, then at least in an upright position with a pencil in my hand.

I’ve downloaded some drawing software and played with that. I’ve scribbled figure drawings in sketchbooks. When I’m REALLY motivated, I work on a memoir-esque comic book project.

Often, even though I’m only “supposed” to be working for 15 minutes, I go much longer than that. Sometimes I fixate so intensely on a project that I work on it for hours and struggle to think of anything else even when I’m not in front of it. My rust is knocked loose, and suddenly, I’m an idea-generating machine again, unable to write or draw fast enough to keep up with my thoughts. Which makes it hard to sleep or find time to wash the dishes or remember to preheat the oven for dinner, but hey, at least I’m not staring at the wall while my contacts dry and adhere to my unblinking eyes.

OK, so now that I’m writing it out, some of this is a little disordered of me, but still… Art has broken me out of my funk plenty of times, and the hyperfixation that follows at least bolsters my energy again. Once the mania releases its grip, I’m ready to clean the bathroom and fold my laundry and brush the filth out of Binx’s beard (sometimes).

The wonderful thing about art is you need so little of anything to make it. Pencil, paper, BOOM. Prefer to use a computer? Scribble with your mouse in MS Paint and pretend it’s 2002 again. Treat yourself to some cheap canvases and a set of lowest-grade acrylic paints from Michael’s (they basically give those things away… Google some coupons and get ready to spend, like, $4 on an entire painting starter kit). Look up “wine and canvas”-style painting tutorials on YouTube. Go WILD. You are MAKING something. Time is a hateful circle, but the raggedy painting you made of a cardinal after watching half a video about it will FOREVER watch you from wherever you try to hide it once you’re done.

But seriously… Art lets you rest your mind and allows you to channel yourself in new ways. You don’t have to be good. You just have to MAKE. You’ll feel more human once you do.

4. The OUTDOORS

Just because it’s winter in the hemisphere you’re probably reading this from (if you’re reading this when it comes out) doesn’t mean you’re trapped indoors. And I know I started this list specifically stating that it doesn’t involve vanishing into the wilderness, but hear me out…

Parks are still open. Walking trails are open. Your neighborhood streets are (probably) open. Of course I’d rather go play outside when it’s warm and sunny. I am, after all, little more than a bipedal lizard whose deepest desire is to find a rock to sun myself upon.

But this lizard can also put on a coat and gloves and take my dogs out for a walk.

This is definitely another “sometimes you have to force joy into your life” list item, because during my stuck-on-the-couch days, I really don’t feel inclined to put on a shirt without salsa stains and go out into the cold. However, as with art, I consistently feel brighter and better for having done so. Even if it’s just out onto my porch to watch snowflakes and sip coffee for a few minutes.

The color will return in a few months. I don’t know what fresh and disheartening news will come with the spring, but at least daffodils will come too. For now, I can still find joy in bare trees.

5. r/Eyebleach

No article on the topic of “lightness” is complete without mentioning the subreddit r/Eyebleach, the true palette-cleanser of the internet. I know it’s a “cheap” joy to end my list with, but sometimes I just need to watch kittens falling asleep or children dancing with bus drivers for a few minutes to calm my frantic brain. r/Eyebleach (and subreddits like it, such as r/WholesomeMemes) is a reminder that there are still good things in the world.

I mean, look at this:

Don’t tell my dogs, but I’m not the type to melt over puppy pictures. But that baby up there? WOW. Just… very good stuff.

That pup is out in the world, having a grand ol’ time, looking at two different things at once with those goofy eyeballs. And that’s good news.

I know the stakes feel higher than ever. I understand the feeling of hopelessness. But you deserve to find joy for yourself, and I truly hope you find that joy today.

The days are getting longer and brighter. Take care of your happiness, and keep marching forward into spring.