Diary of an Anxious Wreck

Sunday, January 2, 2022

Video games are amazing. I can't think of a single one I've completed and my anxiety gets triggered when I can't master them within the first few minutes, but they're still amazing.

The amount of work it takes to complete a single movie is insane, and most of the time you're not getting to the two hour mark with those things. Video games can have hundreds of hours of potential gameplay.

I can't remember what exactly led me to thinking about this. I just know that something made me look to see if I could watch Scott Pilgrim vs. the World anywhere.

Surprise surprise, I couldn't find it on any services in Britain and I'm not subscribed to a VPN.

It got me thinking about how simple video games are. If you come across a hard boss in a video game, you can level up. Get more health, gain more abilities etc. You can practice again and again and again until sooner or later, your hard work pays off and you can move on to the next stage.

Real life isn't like that. You could practice a skill for years and years and years and at the end of it all, there's no guarantee that you'd be good enough.

There's also always a concrete goal to work towards. Skyrim - defeat the dragon. Life is Strange - save the town or your friend/girlfriend depending on what choices you made. Doom - defeat the demons. Until Dawn - survive the night.

I could go on and on. The point is that there's always something you have to do, you do it, game over. You can move on. Sure, you can keep doing side quests to 100% the game, but that's your choice.

In reality, you might achieve your goal, or you might not. And if you do, there's nobody to tell you what's next.

It's like playing a game of poker in a completely dark room with a con man.

And I don't know the first thing about how to play poker other than it involves cards.

I saw You've Been Framed on the TV earlier. I hadn't seen that show for years, but some of my favourite memories are of sitting in front of the TV in my old house, when I was eight at the oldest, and watching all of these videos.

My younger cousin and I used to be absolutely obsessed with trying to get onto YBF, so we'd set up these quote-unquote accidents and get my cousin's little sister to be the one who got hurt in them. She never actually did, we just wanted it to look that way.

One time we got this brilliant shot, everything went perfect, and then she just asked us. "Did I do it right?" As we were still recording. Looking back on it now we could have just edited out her saying that before sending it in, but at the time it felt like such a big deal.

That's the beauty of nostalgia, I suppose. Being taken back to a time when getting a video of ours on You've Been Framed was the biggest concern in my life. Rather than when or if I'll ever be ready for college/university or wondering when I'll get back the stuff I need to live a normal life. My passport and provisional drivers licence, for example.

I remember after YBF there was always Harry Hills TV Burp. There would always be some completely ridiculous and incredibly specific award for some moment of TV that week with its own little jingle before and after. The one that always stood out to me was "Best heart attack acting in a soap of the week".

I have no idea why that stuck with me so much, but I can remember it vividly to this day.

I went out with Dad to do a bit of shopping earlier. We ran into one of his friends on three separate occasions during that trip, and I saw him on a fourth. I was tempted to make a joke about it to him but I chickened out. I did get a sliver of small talk in though, which was still a massive step forward because I can only remember one other time that I've spoken to anyone other than Dad when we were out.

As we were walking back from the shops, a car came down the road and drove straight through a puddle on the side, getting my shoes, socks and jeans wet. The chances of my shoes being dry by tomorrow is slim to none.

It reminded me of something that happened when I was eleven. It was early September and I was waiting for the bus to arrive to take me to school. The rain was super heavy and a lorry drove past, sending a massive spray of water my way. My stepdad opened his umbrella just as it reached me and saved my legs from getting soaked.

Nobody except me and him will ever truly know just how awesome it was. Even though I'd rather forget he exists, that little moment is still one of my favourite memories.

I ate when we got back and then not a lot happened for a few hours. I mainly spent time in my room, trying to gather the energy for visitors tomorrow because yet another one of Dad's friends is coming round to celebrate her birthday with some takeout.

Sigh. I think it'll be a miracle if I have the energy to see people on my birthday at this rate.

We made the same as last night for dinner. It was slightly less terrifying than last night, but I did feel the need to ask how I was doing in terms of mixing the guacamole.

I'm never assuming that a meal is going to go well again. Not after what happened last time. Seriously, what are the odds of me saying that it's all gone well so far and then two minutes later we have a grease fire? And why am I writing this like a question? This is a diary, nobody's going to read it.

I've been living here again almost two months and I still haven't been to the local tearoom. When I was little, like nine or ten, I was obsessed with milkshakes, especially strawberry ones, and deluxe hot chocolates. One day, I was having a milkshake and either myself or Dad asked if they could put squirty cream on the top. Thus, the Virgil Special, or Milkshake Deluxe was born.

I have no idea if it's still on the menu because it definitely was for a while. It would be cool if it was. I wouldn't be able to have it because I'm following a vegan diet (thanks for that, Roman.) But it would still be awesome.

Speaking of Roman, I still haven't heard anything from him. If I still haven't received anything by the end of the eighth, I'll allow myself to start freaking out. I mean I'm probably going to freak out long before then, but I'm gonna try not to. After that, however? It's fair game.

After messaging him back the first thing I'll do is write it down here, definitely.

Until tomorrow, this has been Virgil, writing live from my room.