I’ve lost 58 hours of my life. I will never get them back. The sad part is I will definitely lose more.
How? Sims 4. It’s not even that good; the previous version was superior in so many ways.
When I fall into a video game k-hole, it’s due to depression. It’s a huge indicator (that I ignore). I know exactly what it means: that I can’t handle current life, so I retreat into a virtual world, where I am powerful and driven. It’s such an easy escape. And the Sims is so perfect for it: in this life, I am a sad barista who flunked out of school (yet again, though I am re-enrolling in my Clinical Lab Tech program next summer. More on that in a later post, probably), whose hobbies consist of curling up in panic attacks and reading comics. In Sims life, though, I can create people who are successful musicians, or astronauts, or fitness nuts. I can create the life I wish I lived, the one I’m too lazy to actually work for.
Sometimes, I just hate myself so much. It makes me understand why I get black-out drunk and cut. My sister went off on me recently, accurately stating that there are people all over the world who are desperate just to go to school, and here I am wasting opportunity after opportunity that are literally handed to me on a silver fucking platter. Humans of New York has recently highlighted Syrian refugees, and all they want is to go to school, or work, and generally just be productive contributors to society. And here I am: spoiled, sad, princess, who can’t bother achieving what would actually be fairly easy to reach if only I gave the tiniest shit. If only I didn’t piss away every single thing handed to me. Honestly, I disgust myself.
Guess I’ll go play the Sims 4.
Tales of a Sad Sack 