Cheat Codes and Coping Mechanisms

Sometimes, I wish my life was a video game so I could cheat codes to unlock the answers I need to get to the next level. Because when I finally get to the next rank of distinction, use new power-ups, activate new side quests, and spawn into a new map, I will feel better. At least, that’s what I tell myself. 

I’m telling myself that through video game references to feel like I’m in on a big joke about myself. It’s like a control thing and a “masking my feelings through comedy” thing.

Because if I’m the one making the jokes about feeling sad, no one else can. It’s not even like it’s a joke, though. I know it’s not that funny, or if it’s even funny at all. But if my life is a video game, I’m stuck on a level that I can’t get out of. And my avatar’s mood is set on melancholy. Or maybe it’s listlessness? I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter anyway because I used the Google thesaurus. That’s the best one, and I now know those two words mean similar things. 

But maybe if I spent less time playing video games, I’d be smart enough not to have to type into Google: “words that mean when you feel kind of sad but you don’t know why and you don’t really know if you even care about why you might be sad because it might be nothing and it’s just a phase that will pass.”

I don’t always feel like this, but I do right now. I want to try to be profound about that whole video game metaphor, but I know the only reason I compared my life to a video game is because I’m insanely addicted to a fashion game called “Dress to Impress.” All I want to do is play it. 

Playing video games when you feel down has got to me, the biggest, lamest band-aid solution to a problem ever. I used to think it was a coping mechanism for antisocial boys who hate interacting with people in the real world and have chunky keyboards with matching headphones that can light up. Sure, it’s a stereotype, a rather mean one at that, but I think we all know who I’m talking about. But now I feel bad for all the times I made jokes at that demographic’s expense because I think I might understand them now. 

Well, maybe not fully. I’m very far from reaching the point of pissing in a cup in my room because I can’t bear to spend a second away from my computer screen. I don’t have a special video game desktop setup. If I did, I’d have to sacrifice my desk with my makeup and skincare organizers, and I’m vain, so I’m not ready to part with that. I just play in my bed on my laptop. 

There’s something about the mindless escape of a video game that’s very soothing. Soothing to the point where I’m worried that the wrinkles in my brain are getting smoothed out. It just feels good to be in another world. One where the rules of this world don’t apply and where the things I stress about are non-existent. In “Dress to Impress,” I get to wear whatever clothes I want and stress about finding the codes to unlock hidden sparkly shoes and skirts. I wish I had a code to unlock the sparkle within my soul again. Because it feels locked right now. But I think I know where the key is if I set my mind to actually finding it, instead of just playing another round. 

But I am self-aware, and I have a time limit on how long I allow myself to play because I need my brain to stay wrinkly—I do not wish that on my face. The time limit doesn’t exist on weekends or Fridays. 

I don’t really know why I feel the way I do, and playing my video game is a nice mindless escape, but something in me knows it’s not really because I discovered a new passion in life. I think it’s far from that. I think it’s because I feel disconnected from things I’m actually passionate about. I can’t pinpoint when or where the disconnect happened, but it happened, and now I just want to play video games all day. I hope this is a phase that passes. 

I’m glad there are no dress codes or school uniforms at college. At least all my gaming is giving me some outfit inspiration.