January 1st, 2005: The discovery of self.
And why should it take a video game to reveal it?
I was always a good, quiet child, entertaining myself with dolls and Indian teepees because of an age gap with my two older sisters. Through puberty and early adulthood I was still timid–not overly so, but certainly not a rah-rah cheerleader nor the life of the party. My forays into the forbidden were of the clandestine type, and I secretly took pleasure in the mystery and knowledge without need of braggadocio (Note: thanks, hon, for the stand-up magnifier glass for Christmas–Roget’s paperback Thesaurus is impossible to read when doublechecking on language use.)
With maturity came confidence; restrained and gracious, I would hope, but a sense of being able to speak my mind without fear when necessary. However, on this first day of a new year that I have planned for as a stage for even greater things, I find…I am a mouse.
What is it that has me doing laundry while Silent Hill is stopped and saved at a point where I have come face to face with the enemy? I’m not one to get squeamish at the thought of combat, and am not silly enough to try diplomacy (these games were not conceived by liberal minds!). There are several possibilities that explain reader/player action/reaction.
Too fine a line between reality and fantasy. In many ways, relating the fears of reality to control within a virtual environment where one can reign with false or underlying bravado and claim victory not available in the real world. While I most definitely live half my life in my mind, I don’t feel repressed or particularly ineffective in my persona as Susie Housewife in Burlington, CT.
But this immersion may hold other secrets. This line selected in Steve’s comment from a post, "Are there monsters in me?"
Is there anything to the possibility that while I am relating to the protagonist, James, I as well see myself in the enemy?
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology