For as long as I can remember, video games have made little to no sense to me, Pokémon included. Cartoons were even more past my brain space, as I got sidetracked easily, yet I had an allegiance to a certain yellow mouse.
This allegiance came as any do when we are young - we find something we like and we cling to it through superficial means. I did just that with Pikachu. From my Pikachu plush which made little noises throughout the night as I curled up to it, to the umbrella that made me feel cooler than any kid around me with massive ears which protected me from rain drops.
I mention all of this to say that when "Pokémon Go" came out, I felt wary to download the app and start playing, as I did not want to be considered a follower, someone who was just tagging along but who was not truly there from the beginning.
It seems that my anxiety had begun to creep in and eat me alive, as I was being told that I should not enjoy something that would seem to give me joy. I fought back - I downloaded the app and soon became completely consumed.
The initial moments of gameplay for me were in the office at my work, nothing major at all. I went for a short walk and found the starters, to which I chose Bulbasaur. I thought the game was pretty insane, something I was not prepared for at all. I was finally able to be Misty and was waiting to find my Togepi, who sadly, is nowhere to be found...
A day or so later, I headed out with a friend to hit up all of the local Pokéstops. We drove as it was close to 12:00 a.m., but what we saw was amazing. There were people everywhere, some walking, some driving, but our neighborhood was alive. 70+ Pokéballs later, we headed home and the same encounters persisted for the next days, now weeks to come.
We got a bit adventurous days later, as we headed out of the car and into popular areas that were both heavily lured and populated with Pokémon, making our chances of catching rare Pokémon greater. These were the times that my head told me to go home, to not stay out, that I did not belong. My own fearful voice would ring through my head, telling me that everyone knew I was not a truly cultured fan, that I was not well-versed in the original 148. My friends told me otherwise.
In those nights, as we traversed Ellicott City or hit up Glen Burnie's fountain area, I found love from old and new friends and in times when I thought I would go up in flames from embarrassment, as the summer humidity made me sweat uncontrollably. I found that those around me did not care what I looked like; they were not grilling me on my knowledge of Indigo League. They were simply wondering where the hell I got a Dragonair from and which Pokémon were in my backyard.
The point of this post is to realize that "Pokémon Go" is more than just a fad. It is more than a game, an app or a waste of time. It is more than the media portrays it to be; it is the culmination of human beings in public places, something that happens, yes, but something that rarely happens in such a positive light and/or manner.
As someone who truly only desires to leave the house when they need to, like when I am scheduled to be at work, "Pokémon Go" has opened multiple doors for me, in such a subtle way that I do not let the fear in my head discern what I do with my life. I have struggled with both anxiety and depression from middle school and beyond but in these past couple of days, I have decided that I will not let a mental illness dictate my life any longer; I will not let anxiety and depression keep me from catching 'em all.
