Everything Sucks, But Video Games Help Me Process It

Lately, the world feels pretty bleak.

These days, I expend a significant amount of energy reminding myself that in numerous aspects, humanity is experiencing its best period ever. I strive to find some degree of appreciation, even if it’s just for survival’s sake. Wiser and more balanced individuals than me often argue that being overwhelmed by despair is precisely what those in power desire; maintaining a sense of joy is crucial during such challenging times. From my perspective, they couldn’t be more accurate. Therefore, I’ve made a concerted effort to stay resolute in living a life filled with moments of happiness—for who would willingly live and struggle for misery?

In my efforts to savor life, cherish time with loved ones, and find peace amidst nature, video games have become an integral part, albeit one that I sometimes feel a tinge of guilt about, especially when my husband catches me playing them late at night. Interestingly, recent research by Reuters suggests that certain comforting games like Animal Crossing or Stardew Valley may not be so different from meditation in terms of their positive impact on mental health. In fact, the study found virtually no statistical difference between engaging with video games and meditative practices. This discovery offers a sense of relief for gamers like myself, knowing that our pastime might not be so far removed from traditional relaxation techniques after all.

However, in my leisure moments, I tend to enjoy titles such as Fields of Mistria and Hello Kitty Island Adventure, which are delightful, free from oligarchic influence, and undeniably cute. Yet, these escapades that provide a brief respite from reality aren’t always the ones I seek out. Despite their soothing nature, they don’t necessarily contribute significantly to my mental wellbeing either.

Currently, what I yearn for most are narratives about resistance; stories where the underdogs, despite being outmatched, bravely challenge greater powers. These characters may not be fearless – after all, who is? – but their fear doesn’t prevent them from doing what’s right. To borrow a phrase that I find endearing from Mr. Rogers, in essence, I’m seeking the “helpers” in these video games.

For me, this isn’t a recent occurrence. Whenever discussions lead to the question of what led to my radicalization (using a popular internet meme as an analogy), I can roughly identify the event that shaped many of my fundamental beliefs and values – it was when Barrett Wallace fired at the Shinra-constructed mound, burying his home, friends, and presumably his daughter Marlene. His cry of “What’s it all for?” echoes with both grief and the force of the gunfire. Lately, I find myself repeatedly questioning the same thing: “What’s it all for?

Barrett’s emotional outburst resonates deeply, even serving as a healing force throughout Final Fantasy VII. He embodies love, courage, and selflessness, willing to give his life for the sake of strangers, and tirelessly battle if it means protecting his daughter. I yearn to believe that such a person is not just fictional, but a part of everyone’s essence. Barrett Wallace can be seen as an exemplar of kindness and compassion.

I found a strong connection with the comic book “Metaphor: ReFantazio” last year as well, and I believe this was partly due to its themes resonating with me. The story tackles significant issues such as prejudice, poverty, cycles of violence, anxiety, and religion, consistently highlighting the value of compassion, empathy, and being a fair-minded individual – essentially portraying a “helper”. The narrative goes beyond this by asserting that works like “Metaphor”, which are sincere, truthful, and fundamentally optimistic, serve not just for entertainment but as profound sources of inspiration. They exist to foster even more individuals who are willing to help and make a difference.

Stories, whether crafted by an individual or a team, encapsulate our aspirations, apprehensions, fantasies, life events, and convictions. They serve as a means to materialize the intangible, enabling us to share our inner realms with others in pursuit of resonance. Though not every work is designed to inspire, all have the potential to do so, making the creative process a potent act. In the game I discovered, called Metaphor, this belief is shared deeply. Even after completing the game, its optimism and comfort continue to envelop me. And one reason for this is because I strongly feel that it should envelop others as well.

Absolutely, it’s worth noting that other Atlus games, particularly the Persona series, foster traits like determination, compassion, and resistance against oppression and injustice. Notably, Persona 5 focuses on confronting those who misuse power, whether that be individuals, societal norms, government entities, or institutions that seem overwhelming, encouraging players to stand up for themselves even against seemingly insurmountable adversaries.

Reflecting on my time immersed in the Mass Effect series, it’s clear that Shepherd’s selfless actions, which brought communities together, rectified wrongs, and demonstrated immense sacrifice, spark feelings of resistance, courage, and empathy within players. Now, it’s not compulsory to portray Shepherd in this manner; some elements of the game may not perfectly capture these ideals. However, at its heart, Mass Effect provides an empowering experience where a significant aspect revolves around you shaping the galaxy for the better. The added bonus of romancing Garrus, arguably video gaming’s top boyfriend, only serves to underscore the value of cherishing relationships and finding happiness amid adversity.

However, even though role-playing games (RPGs) seem to be the most fitting choice given their propensity for assembling groups of underdog heroes to overthrow an oppressive system or defeat a formidable enemy, I’ve also found myself drawn to other genres that spark the same excitement in me.

Without a doubt, discussing games that focus on rebellion and aid to others inevitably brings Dishonored and Wolfenstein into the conversation. These action-adventure series place you in the role of characters belonging to small resistance factions determined to dismantle oppressive regimes. Whether it’s stealth or brute force, your objective is to combat tyrants and assist in returning power to the mistreated populace. An intriguing question these games raise: Is the violence employed by the resistance more brutal, or is the institutionalized, sanctioned violence that encourages us to maintain compliance the greater evil?

In the discussion at hand, it’s important to bring up “Death Stranding,” often referred to as the sole “strand game.” The entire experience revolves around assisting others and forging connections in a world plagued by fear and isolation. The protagonist, Sam Porter Bridges, symbolizes this connection himself, facilitating a return of empathy and camaraderie among the people.

The selfless nature of Sam, as well as the player’s, is further underscored by another significant aspect of the game: the Social Strand System. Although you may not interact with all other Death Stranding players, you are given the opportunity to build structures that enhance not just your in-game environment but also those of others. Consequently, you will profit from the constructions of others too, making this a game that emphasizes the power of mutual assistance.

Metroidvania games often follow a common theme where once strong characters find themselves in a weakened state, yet they bravely take on perilous and bizarre adventures. Sometimes these journeys involve safeguarding others. Regaining their abilities and making progress isn’t straightforward; it involves numerous challenges, and frequently requires revisiting areas after gaining more strength, knowledge, or better equipment, before attempting again later. In essence, they mirror the trials and tribulations we face in real life.

Over time, I’ve found a special comfort in games that resemble “Souls-like.” These games often don’t present cheerful or secure narratives, and I actually prefer it that way. After all, if there’s nothing to conquer, we can’t truly test ourselves; we won’t know our resilience and determination unless they’re challenged; we can’t fully appreciate the brightness of life without experiencing its shadows; and we can’t truly savor existence without acknowledging its end.

Despite being labeled as bleak or harsh, games such as Dark Souls, Elden Ring, Bloodborne, and Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice have provided me with inspiration and emotional release. Beneath every gruesome scene, ruthless warrior, tormented landscape, and bloody conclusion lies a temporary sanctuary, breathtaking vistas, and the joy of knowing you’ve earned your way to these rewards. Yes, there will always be challenges lurking around the corner, but just as in real life, those moments of tranquility are precious and relished. They serve as a reminder that amidst all the hardships, we continue to strive and make a difference, even when faced with the unknown and the ominous. It’s truly remarkable.

It seems to me that while there is a demand for games that evoke feelings of safety and comfort, we also need those that inspire and embolden us. Games that serve as reminders of the challenges life presents but also our ability to persevere, to hold on to hope, and to aid one another.

Though some may argue that games shouldn’t be political, I think it’s clear that the ones I’ve mentioned, and many others like Disco Elysium, Papers, Please, Fallout: New Vegas, and numerous other titles that delve into topics such as capitalism, morality, apathy, and centrism, are deeply rooted in the creators’ personal experiences and beliefs. These beliefs, I believe, play a significant role in shaping our political ideologies.

I find it captivating to consider that these artists aspire towards goodness and progression.

I understand that not everyone might want to delve as deeply as I do into these tales. I comprehend that not all will draw the same insights or emerge feeling renewed and transformed. Yet, I can’t help but believe that these stories possess a profound power, and there are many like me who find solace, revitalization, and inspiration in them. Lately, the world has seemed quite gloomy to me. However, history, people, narratives, and art remind me that even the most daunting challenges can be overcome, and that a brighter futureand perhaps a warm, inviting bonfireawaits us around the corner.

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2025-04-23 02:40