Insomniac Nightmares

I used to describe myself as a gamer. Every new release had me hyped up, excited, ready to tear into it.

I say “used to” because for the last six months or so that hasn’t been true at all. I can’t stay up half the night with deadly focus on the next mission in Hitman, I don’t drool in anticipation over the next release in the Yakuza series, I’m not twitching with anticipation over getting my hands on Far Cry 6.

I don’t know if it’s me or the games that changed. I know it was a slow process, that each thing released in the last year or so was a little more disappointing, a little more engaging. Longstanding series and new entrants alike failed to light a fire under me. Given that some things – like Assassin’s Creed Valhalla – haven’t changed significantly from previous entries, I rather think it’s me.

I don’t know what to do about it. Gaming is basically my last hobby. Without it, I feel like I’ll just float away with nothing left to do, and the idea scares me. “Get another hobby,” I hear you all say. I’ve run through most of the ones available to me in this state, and they all faded away already. I don’t know what to do.

It seems a silly thing, to be troubled just because I don’t like video games as much as I used to, but taken in greater context, it’s terrifying to me.