I love video games, but I am not sure why. They don’t make me any money, it’s hard to find friends that play the games you like, and my last purchase usually ends up on a dusty shelf because I never have time to play it.

I decided to give it up for Lent for many different reasons. My main reason is that I wanted to see what a life undistracted by game purchases and playing felt like. My second reason is that I thought it would honor God in this season of reflection and remembrance.

My brain did not like this idea. It really desired the dopamine rush from the promise of new games and exciting play throughs. It would have to settle for comics, wrestling, and streaming–three forms of media I like, but don’t really get super engaged with. It was like replacing straight caffeine with green tea.

My hope was that I would use all my extra free time to publish the great American novel or discover a clean energy. I imagined my family would be blessed by my laser focus and robust attention span. My fear was that I would be scratching at the walls looking for my next used game store fix. I was surprised to discover that giving up video games is not that big of a deal.

The reality is that I can live a full and complete life without video games. I have enough in my faith, creativity, and career to cast it aside. Video games aren’t really doing all that much to impact my quality of life (in terms of career).

But at the same time, I feel like I lost a best friend. This friend had warm welcomes, familiar hobbies, and exciting goals. He had a network of friends that I could connect my passion with. His ideas about becoming the richest and fanciest game collector were groundbreaking. He wouldn’t judge me if I didn’t finish a game, but he was eager to get me to try new experiences. This friend knew how to spend my time, money, and thumbs.

Even though I was tasked with abstaining for video games, I snuck in a few YouTube videos of vloggers cataloging and presenting them. It was like texting an ex.

The hope of me regaining focus and attention to priorities didn’t come in like I hoped it would. Instead of thinking of the next video game that I would proudly parade thorough my brain, I transferred my obsession to looking at SEO stats, podcast downloads, and book sales for my other projects (these numbers served mostly to depress). I passed the compulsive buying torch from retro games and consoles to a shiny new laptop for video editing, word processing, and drawing. Obsessing about video games is not healthy, but I was disappointed when the super healthy habits didn’t come flooding in. There was a vacant spot in my brain and I was not going to sell it to a disciplined lifestyle.

And what about my relationship with God that sparked this Lent activity? I know God isn’t spewing hate on all video games. He created all forms of media. Although, he has qualms with it becoming disruptive and obsessive (2 things I major in excellently).

My greatest revelation is learning how delusional I can be. I have this grand vision that I can just come home from 4 hours of working and devote my day to finishing my game library. I convinced myself that the next game I get from Game Stop will fill me with so much satisfaction, I will give it 30 plus hours of undistracted game time. I always knew this was a lie, but the dopamine is so convincing. The excitement for gaining more experiences could carry me for 72 hours at the most.

Video games are such a unique experience. You sit down on a couch and roleplay as the star of a very grand movie. It comes with so many different flavors, emotions, and tasks. Even though your game character is limited to 7-10 actions that you will repeat over and over, it feels like you can do anything in a video game.

The struggle is real. Video games are a beautiful art that promises story, adventure, and challenge to its user, but my brain is not looking for a small trip through an interactive museum as much as it is finding a permanent home to rest my appetite for interactive distraction. I can be healthy, happy, bored, sad, lonely, attentive, productive, heart broken, and distracted without these digital explorations.

Am I looking for “something to do” that will satisfy my story driven brain completely, while lifting me up toward lofty life goals? Or do I just want to punch aliens for a few minutes to escape life? That is the question.