It’s All A Game

Thejus Chakravarthy
3 min readJul 6, 2019

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For a certain kind of gamer, the ‘rage quit’ is part of loving the genre. Steeped in ancient traditions, like yelling at the screen, defeating a level for a younger sibling, and leaning forward to tackle a hard part of the game.

held up as a classic rage quit, this is probably the gentlest version

Over time, the rage quit became more visible, as people threw their phones across the room because of that one level in Candy Crush. Still, for a certain type of gamer, the rage quit is part of the love of the game. They want a harder game. They want the challenge and they refuse to set it on easy and the very idea of a cheat code is offensive.

I’m one of those kinds of gamers and I can say I have definitely startled my dog (and probably my neighbors) with a less-than-quiet outburst of frustration.

So why do we do it? Well, it’s fun to work on something and get better at it. It’s fun to try hard at something and see the rewards. It’s me vs something: a digital enemy, a complex puzzle, or a horrifically long sidequest to get an ultimate weapon.

The games I loved the most were the ones that had moments of horrific difficulty. Just hellacious moments where I wasn’t sure I could get any further. Like why my settlers kept dying of dysentery, or trying to figure out which brother was the bad one in Myst, or how to defeat Sephiroth in Kingdom Hearts, or the final boss in Shinobi, each massive undertaking is etched in my brain and my aching thumbs. And I loved every minute of it.

Photo by Balkouras Nicos on Unsplash

Recently, I realized the most important thing this taught me. It taught me that no matter how angry may be, I wanted to play this game. I bought the game. I paid for it with money I earned. I turned on the machine and sat down with a controller. This was all my choice. And no matter how it frustrates me that I cannot progress, I wanted to do this.

Even back in the ancient times of pre-Google, there were strategy guides and bulletin boards with walkthroughs. There were other gamers who could give me advice. There were options other than just banging my head against a wall until something gave way.

Now, that applies to other things. My job, my friends, my family, my life as a whole. When I became an adult, I became responsible for the games I chose to play. No one can force me to take a job, to make friends, or to be around my family. Those have to be things I choose to do. And if I choose to do it, I have to accept the anger and frustration that may come with it.

Photo by sydney Rae on Unsplash

Let’s say your job is frustrating you. There are tasks that are time consuming, energy draining, or just plain repetitive.

You could find ways to work faster, or to reenergize yourself. Or you could quit the job.

What if every time you hang out with friends, you feel worse about how you look, what you’ve done, or what you believe.

You could dress better, try harder, or make different friends.

If every family gathering makes you angry, sad, and/or disappointed, you could choose not to engage in troublesome topics, confront them, or distance yourself completely.

Just like those video games, there are strategy guides for life. There are other people who can give you advice. There are options out there for any problem you could encounter.

All it takes is for you to take a step back and realize, it’s all a game. A game you chose to play. A game you love.

This is just the hard part.

Photo by Alessio Lin on Unsplash

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Thejus Chakravarthy
Thejus Chakravarthy

Written by Thejus Chakravarthy

if i’m not optimizing some operations puzzle or the other, i’m probably reading (or writing, apparently)

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