Night commanded the sky as the sun completely set. The water droplets rapidly pattered against the lake, the darkness shrouding their tiny crater-like impacts on the surface. The lake's stillness granted it an illusion of being pure black marble. I almost climbed the low rail and jumped into it, hoping to take a shortcut through a lengthy path and thinking the body was a hard surface, but my common sense came to the rescue by noting the lake looked bizarre enough to merit a closer look. That likely saved my life...considering I can barely swim.
Freezing wind accompanied the periodic bursts of rain, followed by a sudden lull of both elements. After a minute of peace the two resumed their concurrent attack, only to pause again, and the pattern would mercilessly repeat during my trek, a trademark of Danish weather.
My once warm military jacket was drenched and the water seeped through multiple layers of clothing. When the cold reached my skin, I involuntarily shuddered. All I wanted to do was sleep in a warm and cozy bed.
But I had to get where I was going.
I was rushing to a party a couple of nights ago and ended up lost for an hour. It was because of my discomfort with taking any sort of public transportation, which made me delay leaving the house until the last minute. That was when the clouds let the rain loose.
In California I usually had someone drive me places. I could shut off from the world and relax while a friend or my parents drove to wherever we were going.
In Denmark that luxury's gone. The buses and trains available in the excellent public transportation system don't leave me with any excuses.
And after a month of avoidance, I had to use it. It ended up fine.
There isn't any profundity in realizing that I could take a train or bus to get somewhere. I had a similar issue with planes before flying to Denmark. What's relevant is the overarching principle behind what made me reluctant to try, or more of what leaves all of us with the same feeling. It traps many people in a cycle of inaction and dependence, and when confined in this cycle over the course of years, learned helplessness and misery creep into our lives, eventually overshadowing everything else. That's no way to live.
From the ages of 13 to 16, my gaming habit was at its peak. Halo was the first game that I was serious about, then it went to role-playing games, then a touch of strategy, and then more shooters. I averaged five hours per day and shot up to eight in late 2011, which worsened my already crappy grades in my first year of high school.
It was fun. It melted time away. It made me a more knowledgeable and open minded person. And it let me run away from my fears.
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| I spent nearly a thousand hours on this game |
But someone excessively playing Call of Duty or World of Warcraft isn't what's interesting. It's the why, the intention, the fallacies of the superficial reasoning and what they mean, the emotions involved, and more that should be investigated. Replace gaming with any other activity (academics, sports, work, social media, etc.), and while the specifics will differ, the subconscious motivations won't.
My trouble with buses, trains, and planes was never about any of them in particular. It was the fact that I had to manage something on my own. It was my responsibility to arrive at the right destination, and the fear of embarrassment and personal failure by making a mistake, like being lost (especially missing a flight and incurring a penalty), rattled my pride enough to stay away from them until it wasn't possible anymore.
Seems like an overreaction to such a simple process, right? All action is simple in itself. How it makes us feel, the purpose and pertinence we give it, is where the struggle begins.
Public speaking is a common fear for people. So is being honest in a situation where you'd hurt the feelings of someone you care about.
Verbalizing your thoughts in both scenarios is simple. Putting yourself out there, to be vulnerable to the judgement of peers, or potentially straining your relationship with a loved one, is the gut wrenching challenge.
I've observed the wrong choice being made too many times by friends, family, and myself over the years. In the short term everything is peachy, but then the long term consequences of repressing the truth/picking the easy route come back laced with far more agonizing pain.
I have friends who've attempted suicide or fell into depression because they didn't know how to handle their deep seated emotions, or if they did, they'd blame their family or some other factor in their lives. Without grasping the "why" or their own role in the situation, they couldn't do anything about it because from their frame of reference, it was out of their hands. Predictably their angst kept building up until it was unbearable.
My passion for video games partially originated from a mild phobia of real world social contact. I only saw the negative side of genuine human interaction for a while. Genuine meant standing up for myself and being who I was. The worst of the negative was total social exclusion, which I inordinately focused on. Plus the fictional super-soldiers (looking at you Master Chief) and assassins were funner and less stressful to interact with than actual people.
Later in high school when I accepted the hard truths about myself, that it was up to me to steer toward a better direction and that I could do it, things moved more smoothly than ever. It loaded more pressure onto me since there was responsibility on my shoulders for the first time, but I felt in control of my life for once because it was self-imposed. The relief in recognizing that was uplifting.
My abysmal grades turned into straight A's and I participated in an awesome non-profit that improved kids' lives (while gaming to a much less extent). I exercised, ate healthier, and developed better relationships with those around me. Achieving those results was grueling and demoralizing at times. It was totally worth it.
And in the solitude of placing power in oneself, I discovered the joy in bonding with other people and accepting or offering help along the way. I made more great friends and had some crazy romantic experiences that emotionally matured me.
I had to remind myself about this when I wanted to avoid the damn train. That it was okay to take the wrong one because I could go back. Someone at the station could help. The maps and computers displayed the routes. I was in Denmark on exchange. I was okay. Everyone is.
The party was decent. Plenty of amiable, drunk teens. I made a friend or two and had some tasty food. The walk back to the train station was fast, even in the downpour (reminder: buy an umbrella). I entered the correct train without a hitch.
The train's final warning dinged and the doors shut. I watched the dark and wet world speed on by for two stops before debarking. Getting home, I tip-toed through the house at 1 AM. After shedding my damp clothes and putting on dry ones, I dropped into my warm and cozy bed and slept well into the next day.
Top Picture Credit: Roshan Panjwani
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