Bears Don't Judge

In my earlier post about smoking, I stated that I do not have an addictive personality. I stand by that statement, despite the fact that it was pointed out to me by my blog-review committee that I am in fact addicted to caffeine in the same way that I am addicted to oxygen. 

Nonetheless, I don't have a problem becoming addicted to harmful drugs or alcohol or gambling or cigarettes (which I consider a drug -- nicotine) or any of the things that people traditionally become addicted to. I do, however, have to admit that from time to time, and for brief periods, I do become obsessed with video games. I'm not going to go so far as to call it an addiction, because these obsessions tend to be short-lived, as addictions do not, and I don't wish in any way to  diminish the struggle that lots of people face with addictions. 

Currently, my obsession is with a game called "Triple Town." (Prior to that it was “Plants vs. Zombies.”  Braaaaaains.) It fits all the criteria for the types of games I get obsessed with. The rules are simple, the graphics aren't anything close to realistic, and the game is deceptively difficult to master. In this game, you build a little town on a grid. You plant grass, and when three grasses are together, they become a bush. Three bushes become a tree, three trees become a shack, three shacks become a house, three houses become a mansion, three mansions become a castle, three castles become a floating castle, and three floating castles become I don't know, because I've never made it that far. But I will one day, dadgummit, or die trying. 

To make it a little more challenging, these cute little flea-ridden bears pop up from time to time for the express purpose of getting in your way, and ninja bears after that, and the trick with bears is to trap them so they become tombstones, three tombstones becomes a church, three churches becomes a cathedral, and three cathedrals becomes a treasure box, which contains coins with which you can buy bushes or trees or crystals or destructo-robots, etc. Now that I've actually put it into words, it sounds really stupid, so I'm sorry I took the time to do it. Now my embarrassing obsession looks even worse.

There is no telling how many hours I have spent playing this dumb game. The hours are usually at night, either right after work or close to bedtime, when my mind has become so jellied by the activities of the day that playing with my bears is the most challenging thing I am capable of doing. The bears don't require me to complete thoughts or sentences. The bears don't judge.

I justify this by calling it my own personal form of meditation. This is not really so far of a stretch. I am too anxious of a person and too much of a do-er to spend much comfortable time just sitting and collecting my thoughts. That tends to make me more anxious, since not enough of my brain is occupied, and the bored parts entertain themselves by making to do lists and obsessing about what hasn't been done on them. Games like Triple Town occupy just enough of my brain to silence the taskmaster, while still allowing enough mental freedom for me to process the day and allow my pithed brain to heal from the daily scrambling.

I admit that I am a little bit like a crack dealer when I get obsessed with a particular game that suits me so well. First hit is free, then you are on your own. I insist on walking my friends through the tutorial and extolling its virtues.  Sometimes, the student overtakes the master. My friend June, for example, can outscore me every time, and recently learned that she scores in the top 1% of the nation. I don't know whether to be proud or sorry.

It really is an illness. The little "bomp" sound that Triple Town gives me when I combine three of something into something else gives me a little pleasure boost.  No doubt it activates whatever gland it is that secretes whatever chemical it is that makes people happy. And the "ta da" trumpet noise when I get a castle -- oh the rush! Sometimes when I close my eyes I can see the grid and the little bears scratching their fleas and dream of placing that tree just so and "ta da!"

The little things make me happy. 

At the moment, everyone I know, and a few I don't, is addicted to a game called "Candy Crush Saga." I have about 17 zillion requests on Facebook that I join in on the fun. I thought that this was just my friends, like me, pushing their obsessions on everyone else. I have since learned that you need your friends to get you extra lives or boosts or whatever it is. I learned this when my mother, who never goes on Facebook, started sending me requests and then sent me an email asking me to please please please get her an extra life and then, when that didn’t work, called me. I still haven't succumbed, but I did download the game onto my son's iPod, and I may give into my mother's pressure. After all, I am a good girl, and I have to do what my Mommy tells me, right?