The Worst Kind
It’s something no parent ever wants to hear. It’s an unthinkable tragedy, one usually associated with narcotics and prison. It’s an addiction. Not just any addiction, though. It’s my addiction to playing competitive Tetris.
Left, right, down, space. I lay awake at night, throwing t-blocks in my mind, wondering how do I place these two blocks? Is it possible to never lose? I play against the computer, which forces me to move my fingers faster and faster until it is impossible to win. I play against other people online, a chatroom on the side, but I ignore the blinking messages of “good game!” and “how do you type so fast?” to focus. I play so much that it affects my personality, where I start to snap at the smallest mistakes of misplacing a tetromino one pixel to the wrong side. If my parents talk to me right after a loss, they can tell. By this point, I know that my brain has become tuned into the game. I recognize shapes by mere glimpses of their colors, placing them in perfect strategic formations without pause. It comes naturally, so naturally that my friends no longer want to play against me after school, scared of defeat.
I play until it is late at night, the clock blinking red digits at me while I work my poor eyes so hard they require glasses to function normally during the daytime. I play and play and play to the point that my fingers cramp up while I am doing normal tasks such as picking up a pencil, to the point that I dream about entering international Tetris competitions, winning prizes, and being featured as the best player in the world.
But all good (or detrimental) things must come to an end. I realized that I could not breeze through my high school classes as easily as I had in middle school, and my Tetris account (level 86!) quickly became a thing of the past. Of course, I am always reminded of my former obsession - sometimes, I still catch myself daydreaming about falling geometric objects. It comes up time to time in conversations with old friends, who mention that my rapid typing and logic skills are probably due to my countless hours online. Once, I googled “benefits to Tetris”, but when I found an article that said the recommended playing time was 1.5 hours in 3 months, I quickly exited in shame.
Two years later, I nearly fell into the same trap with Candy Crush Saga, but I stopped myself before reaching level 1000. That, or I may have gotten stuck on level 999. Recently, though, I heard that the Tetris site that I frequented long ago was going to shut down after 11 whole years. Although it feels like it's been decades, I decided to return to the site for "one quick game" - when I typed the URL into my browser and it popped up as a suggestion before I was even done, it seemed like it was waving hello at an old friend. When I pressed the PLAY button, the rush immediately came back. I beat my opponent with hardly any effort.
As I sat at my desk, staring at the colorful logo that invited me to play another game, try a 4-player match, or even an Arena Battle, I realized that my Tetris times were over. I had fought my hardest to win every single game. Although my parents had scolded me for spending time on such a useless hobby, this game had taught me to expect more from myself in every aspect of life. And although an era is coming to an end, I don't regret any part of it.
