Early mornings, escapism, and the queer joy of gaming
For some unknown reason, I’ve been getting up at 4am naturally these past days. Part of me hates this because I feel like I could be getting a lot more rest. Another part of me loves this because I feel like it’s just me and the world, no distractions, and the ability to do anything I want.
Sometimes when I wake up this early, I choose to sit down and play video games. It feels like the only time in the day where I can game without some form of guilt visiting me. Growing up queer, I feel like my default has always been putting on some kind of facade in my day to day. During these quiet hours, I don’t have to perform for anyone. I don’t have to mask, edit, or shrink myself down to fit into the world’s expectations.
As I get older, I’ve been so resistant to the responsibilities of everyday life. So resistant that I think my body has found a way to carve out time for ourselves by demanding my consciousness before the sun rises. It’s kinda amazing (as I’m writing this at 5am).
Feelings like this have led me to reflect on how my relationship with gaming has evolved. I’ve always been the kind of player to spend an entire day in the world of a game, but it’s almost insanely impossible in my late 20s.
Pockets of freetime outside of work, doctor’s appointments, family effects, etc. feel so rare that they almost become fragile in nature. I tend to put so much pressure whenever I have these windows on choosing the “best” action to take. Should I read a book, watch a movie, make music, or play Trails Through Daybreak II? I almost always waste a good amount of this time trying to decide…
Priorities are everything when you’re an adult and sometimes it feels weird prioritizing something that makes you happy… but doesn’t read as conducive to your growth. It’s a stigma that I think still holds weight inside of me. Maybe it’s because for so long, I’ve grown up with gaming being associated with 6th grade straight boys playing Call of Duty, that I might very well be struggling with a raging case of Peter Pan syndrome glued to my controller on a Sunday morning.
But I remembered the other day as I was taking screenshots from my playthrough of Through Daybreak II, that games are my books and movies. They don’t replace those (as I’m VERY much on an insane movie kick right now) but they are very much part of the media I consume that enrich my life.
When I look at my relationship with gaming over my entire life, I’ve always found an escape in it like a lot of people do in a good book or movie. Isn’t that something beautiful? I think that I tend to lean towards escapism too hard sometimes, but if the balance is there, what’s the harm in spending free time doing something that brings the little kid in me so much joy?
Like many queer kids, I grew up feeling different, isolated. On Sunday mornings, while others were out playing sports or bonding with their siblings, I found solace in Sonic Adventure. There was nothing to do but to be present in the virtual world I was in, and that was all I would need to let go of my loneliness.
I think I carry some of that loneliness with me today, and even though I’m surrounded and supported by people that I love dearly, there’s still that little boy in me that desperately wants to connect to something outside of the environment I’m in.
Gaming does that for me…. and to hold space for that in a fast paced world where the second you open your eyes you’re reminded of all the bills you have to pay and work that needs to be done, is a practice. It’s something I hope to get better at.
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