This post was started in late August, originally titled ‘Why I love MMORPGs’,
in the midst of another MMORPG binge on Rift. I have since
had a change of heart.
At my age, I cannot afford to play this type of game anymore. I’m calling
“Jumanji” and hanging it up.
My typical weekday went from 8 hours of work to 14-15. Get home, log in, go.
It was never meant to end up that way.
One thing I had never done in my life, at least in my gaming career, was to
get the max level in an MMORPG and see the entire game. I had come close in
the past. This time I wanted to see it through, and Rift was the perfect game
for that. Quite honestly, its the best MMORPG since Everquest in my opinion.
I always had utmost respect for the players that could do the ‘endgame’
content in these games, areas that take 10-40 man groups to ‘clear out’ (kill
the bosses) the zone. One player I always reference when talking about the
subject was a player from Everquest way back in the day. He and select others,
due to their outright performance and ownership over the game, were hand
picked and now work at Blizzard Entertainment. I always thought that was
awesome. I always thought that someday, maybe that could happen to me.
Face it, that shit isn’t easy. Most people think it is, other laugh at this
type of game. It’s real, actual work. If you think it isn’t, you try
successfully leading 20 people in a game without dying for hours and getting
nowhere. From the time you start until the time you hit the maximum level is
just practice. After that, I would find, is a relentless grind and a level of
competitive gaming I had not yet experienced.
I wouldn’t call it an addiction. I was never addicted. I had a desire to be
the best, just like anything else I set out to do. There wasn’t going to be
any half measures this time. I wanted to do it all. I fell in with a group of
people who had just transferred from another server for some reason or
another. They were, by all accounts, the best from where they came from.
Perfect, I thought. They were going to need players, and I needed players to
see the rest of the game. Most of them were just like myself. Some younger,
some older, funny, witty players. It was the catalyst that sucked me in like a
riptide that takes you far away from mainland.
Before I knew it, we had picked up another 16 people. The guild I just joined
went from new to ‘raid ready’ in a matter of hours. A casual, 1-2 hour a day
few days a week hobby became a 6 day a week, 5 hours a night alternate life.
In fact, some days it didn’t even feel real, almost automatic, something
between Inception and The Machinist. Hours flew. Days fell off the calendar. I
was playing every chance I got, everywhere I was needed. I even started
another character, and hit the level cap in 9 straight days of playing.
Only a few knew what I was up to, I balanced it well though I knew the house
of cards was prone to coming down at any day. All day I thought about how we’d
handle the nights raids, what loot might drop, who would get it. Advancement.
Progression. Bragging rights. Boom.
So it went on, for weeks. Every night. We actually did very, very well. If I
recall, our guild started out being like 9th or 10th on the server in terms of
what we’d conquered, how well respected we were, and how popular our guild
was. As of the day I quit, we had risen to the #1 spot. To do that, in just 5
or 6 weeks, is remarkable. I felt pretty good, we had become the best, and
there was still more to do.
But not for me.
I was so driven to do this that I lost sight of everything else. My blinders
were on, I saw the end, and nothing was going to stop me from getting there.
Frequent nights out all but came to a halt. I started skipping the gym. I
started staying up way later than I should, and Sundays were great marathon
days to get ready for the weeks raid schedule. Usually on-time bill payments
began lapsing. Grocery shopping became frequent take out. Whatever would cut
down time and give me more to allot here, I did it. Go out for dinner? No.
Down to the pub for a beer? I’ve got beer at home. Without ever thinking about
it, I had become a full-time, hardcore raider.
I set a goal, I met it. It all came at a personal cost.
I realized while gaming is a fun, positive hobby, these kinds of games are
habitually destructive on an individuals lifestyle. Why was I even doing this
in the first place? Some old ass nostalgia? A goal the 17 year old me never
got to do? Who even cares? I am doing what many others who play games like
this cannot do, and that’s quit while I am ahead. After all, we did reach the
top.
I should have been focused on myself and not some character. It’s precisely
what I set out to do last spring and lost complete track of this summer.
Because of that, I had made numerous poor decisions under clouded judgement. I
wrecked half my summer in a nightmarish double life that I never intended to
have. At least it’s all over.
I haven’t played in two weeks. I walked away. It feels like a huge burden has
been lifted off my shoulders. What they say is true, those games are a job,
and I don’t need a second one.
As of today, I will never touch one of these games again. I now run, but
that’s a post for another day.