Why Video Games Are My Pastime of Choice

Why Video Games Are My Pastime of Choice

They certainly take more focus than that TV.
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Video games, for me, have been the pastime of choice for my entire life. Ever since I was a little guy I have been glued to a screen of some type. I found the stories fascinating, the characters larger than life and the difficulty appealing. Here was another world (or worlds) I could get lost in and thoroughly enjoy myself. I may not be able to go on a wild quest of adventure with my companions in tow, but the person I played definitely could. Video games have done something for me that most other things in life could never do. Perhaps the most important thing out of it all: The games let me escape from the world around me completely for however short or long a period of time.

If I am stressed out, these games let me blow off steam in a way that I otherwise could not. They take my mental focus off what is causing me to panic and worry. I end up putting my entire thought process and focus onto playing the video game and trying to accomplish what it wants me to. Nothing else invades my mind and although I am completely absorbed by the game, my mind is at peace. Having only a singular thought in my mind and no others barging their way in is the closest I usually come to bliss.

When I am down, video games are there to help pick me back up. While I usually don't play games in a bad mood because I get angry quickly, it can definitely help blow off some steam. It's the singular thought process video games bring me coming around again to help level off my mood.

Hell, if I am in a good mood video games are even better. I can really dig deep into the story/game I am playing and enjoy it that much more. The same game I played unsuccessfully when I was in a irritable mood is now enjoyably successful.

One thing most people over look is that video games are increasing more social as technology develops. My favorite game is League of Legends. There are literally millions of people who play this game, and you have to communication and cooperate with everyone on your team to achieve victory. My friends and I are on Skype most of the time to achieve better communication. We chat about the game, how our days are going while waiting to play a game and share in the overall joys of the game together. Also, the social aspect helps lift people, including myself, out of bad moods. It's hard to stay grumpy when you have three or more people in a call on Skype trying to cheer you up.

So when you see your friend/child/spouse playing a video game, don't rag on them for it. It's not immature to find a positive way to relieve stress and the events of the day (except when playing to excess, of course). I'd much rather have my friend or child playing a video game than spending hour in front of the TV. Your brain has to be working harder at that game than droning through a TV series, right?

Cover Image Credit: unclebobs.com

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To The Parent Who Chose Addiction

Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.

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When I was younger I resented you, I hated every ounce of you, and I used to question why God would give me a parent like you. Not now. Now I see the beauty and the blessings behind having an addict for a parent. If you're reading this, it isn't meant to hurt you, but rather to thank you.

Thank you for choosing your addiction over me.

Throughout my life, you have always chosen the addiction over my programs, my swim meets or even a simple movie night. You joke about it now or act as if I never questioned if you would wake up the next morning from your pill and alcohol-induced sleep, but I thank you for this. I thank you because I gained a relationship with God. The amount of time I spent praying for you strengthened our relationship in ways I could never explain.

SEE ALSO: They're Not Junkies, You're Just Uneducated

Thank you for giving me a stronger bond with our family.

The amount of hurt and disappointment our family has gone through has brought us closer together. I have a relationship with Nanny and Pop that would never be as strong as it is today if you had been in the picture from day one. That in itself is a blessing.

Thank you for showing me how to love.

From your absence, I have learned how to love unconditionally. I want you to know that even though you weren't here, I love you most of all. No matter the amount of heartbreak, tears, and pain I've felt, you will always be my greatest love.

Thank you for making me strong.

Thank you for leaving and for showing me how to be independent. From you, I have learned that I do not need anyone else to prove to me that I am worthy of being loved. From you, I have learned that life is always hard, but you shouldn't give into the things that make you feel good for a short while, but should search for the real happiness in life.

Most of all, thank you for showing me how to turn my hurt into motivation.

I have learned that the cycle of addiction is not something that will continue into my life. You have hurt me more than anyone, but through that hurt, I have pushed myself to become the best version of myself.

Thank you for choosing the addiction over me because you've made me stronger, wiser, and loving than I ever could've been before.

Cover Image Credit: http://crashingintolove.tumblr.com/post/62246881826/pieffysessanta-tumblr-com

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Batter Up

Because someone needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat a woman.

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views

I have this memory from when I was younger,

I must have been six, maybe seven? An age

When you can remember, but not quite

Understand. I remember the landline

Ringing sometime in the middle

Of the night in my grandmother's small,

But adequate house. I had been sleeping,

Tucked under a shield of satin covers,

My grandmother next to me, blanketless,

And stiff, on the very edge of the queen mattress

Like she was anticipating some sort of disaster.

It wasn't the phone that pulled me from my sleep,

It was my grandmother's instant jerk, her eyes

Flipping open quicker than a light switch,

The mattress springing back up, adjusting

To the new lightness as she fled the room. My waking

Was soft like a song. Slow and humane.

My eyes adjusting to the dark, my ears absorbing the ringing,

My mind reminding itself that I was at my grandmother's house.


Then, the ringing stopped;

Abrupt, like a disarmed fire alarm.

It was just a drill, I thought.

But, then I heard the mumbling

From behind the door, panicked mumbling.

Rapid, like gunfire. My grandmother's Rs

Rolling down the hallway and under the door crack.

She only spoke Spanish when she was angry.


The call ended, my grandmother returned to the room,

Wrapped me in a blanket, and carried me into the night.

She buckled me into the backseat of her Toyota and said,

We were going to Auntie Mandy's house because someone

Needed to teach her rotten boyfriend a lesson about how to treat

A woman.


When we arrived at the house, we found the front door

Wide open, the house lights spilling out onto the porch.

A truck, I had seen once before, was parked a foot away

From the front door, aggressive. The truck had trampled

Over the dandelions and daisies, which lay wounded

In the front yard. A scene that begged for investigation.


My grandmother told me to stay put in my seat.

I watched as she walked to the back of the car, her normally pretty

Face turned straight, looked masculine. I watched as she pulled

Something wooden out of her trunk, then in her feline walk,

Approached the house. She turned to me, and I saw the

Baseball bat, immense in her female hands.


I slouched in my seat, the window above my head.

I never saw her go into the house.


I don't remember how long I sat,

Until the red and blue lights came.

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