Society doesn’t quite like competitive gaming.
It’s projected all over the mainstream media. “Video games are the devil,” or “Is your child getting too addicted to video games,” it’s got parents all around the world paranoid that their child is going to become some Video Game Junkie, doing nothing but playing video games all day. And to their credit, there are reasons to be concerned. Video games are, well, fun and addicting, and parents only want what’s best for their child. But I’m not here to argue about how video games aren’t the devil, I’m here to talk about my experience with gaming in general, and how parents and the media are missing the point.
Our society is run by comparison. We’re faced everyday with questions like how much money do you make, how pretty do you look, how tall you are, and it affects our mental health in the process. We spend months and months and months trying to earn more money, trying to become better-looking and trying to become taller. And these types of comparisons aren’t exempt from children, either. They get compared on their size, their height, their gaming skills, their grades, almost anything about a person can be used against you. Just like how we spend months and months trying to figure out how to earn more money and how to become more good looking, children spend years and years practicing their gaming skills, trying to capture their classmates attention and praise.
No, it’s not “Just a game.” It’s become more than just a game. After years of spending your life on a video game that game has become a part of you. Days after days of moving your mouse across the mousepad, and hands on the keyboard, the experience of competitive gaming, the satisfaction and the magic of watching the crosshairs on your screen move as you move your mouse, the power of getting a headshot kill, the beauty of flicking your mouse, watching your sniper’s crosshair move to an enemy target.
And then the bad days, sitting there hunched over crying because you lost a game. The bad days when you realize that you aren’t good enough as you lose over and over again, as you sit down and cry because you realize that you’re never going to be good enough and that you should really just stop trying. But each time you come back because the game has become a part of you now. You come back for the brief glimpse of hope, that you might have a chance, that you can practice and get better, that you can be better.
We indulge in beauty, our studying, and our hobbies because we want to prove to ourselves that we are the person that we think we are. Everyday we go through rigorous training, long hours of googling how to become better at a sport, how to become smarter, and how to become prettier. And when the moment of truth comes, when you’re facing the judgement of your peers trying to earn their recognition and praise to give meaning to the long hours spent working and studying, when you inadvertently slip and fall and fail, it’s suffocating. You realize that you have spent hours on something that couldn’t have possibly worked out in the first place, and all the “talent” that you had, all the “skill” you’ve worked up to, you realize that you don’t have as much as you first thought.
It’s a terrifying thought, not being the person who you thought you were. Looking up into the abyss, when you finally take a step back and realize how far of the path you still have to go, people lose motivation. It’s here when you realize that in the grand scheme of things, you aren’t “insane”. You aren’t even good. And it’s in that realization and helplessness where you can do nothing but smash your fists into your keyboard and silently cry into your arms, because you will never be good enough.
People don’t play competitive video games hours upon hours because it’s fun. They spend time on it to prove something to themselves, to others, that they’re good at this game too. That they can be cool too, that they can be strong too, and when they fall short it’s devastating. They often feel a need to try and project their issues on their teammates, their parents, their friends, and their brain can’t accept that it’s their fault, because to accept it means that all you’ve worked for was for nothing.
You know I keep hearing that people who get mad at video games need help. My mother often says that, and has often reiterated that she doesn’t want me hanging out with those kinds of people. I agree, somewhat. Yeah, people who get mad at video games really do need help. People who are that insecure about an insignificant video game should be helped, but what I’ve never understood is why people say it like someone else has to help them. We constantly look at troubled people but we never use our own hand to help them.
Stop looking at us like we’re freaks. Stop looking at us like there’s something mentally wrong with us. The things that are wrong with us are the things that everybody feels: insecurity. The truth is there isn’t anything wrong with us. We just want appreciation. We just want your praise, to feel loved. We want to feel like we’re worth it and so we do everything to grab your attention and show you what we’ve learned.
Because it’s stopped being a game for us. It’s a part of us that we can’t get rid of. It’s something that we do to feel like we’re worth something, to feel like we’re not useless. We spend hours to impress you, doing everything for you.
So please, see us. Understand our pain. See the countless hours of practice. See the tears that dropped from our faces as we realized we weren’t good enough. See through the highlight, and see us.
Because we need you.
