How I made Spoons with a Video Game

Starting with an Acknowledgment of the times: Downtown, there are people protesting the murder of black and Indigenous Folx. The protests are becoming more intersecional, covering more oppressed minorities over time. Here I am, at home, sitting at my computer. Where I struggle to have the energy to get food, or exercise so that I don’t lose even more of the shape I gained while I was working. MY privilege affords me this time to heal my mind. Until I can do more, for myself or others. One day.
Relative to the wrongful deaths, my chronic mental illness seems so small. But at least for myself, when looking back at these days. I wanted to preserve the ways I have healed, despite the circumstance of quarantine. This spring of 2020.
Just know that Black live matter. Indigenous lives matter. And Trans lives matter.
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This is not about a video game. This is a blog entry about my mental health, and how a video game intersects that.
I found that Quarantine existing, was already a drain on my daily spoons. When I’ve been struggling for 6 months before, to increase my “spoons” so that I could grow beyond barely making it to work every day.
A link to the author of Spoon Theory: https://butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/
My experience may not be your experience. But this is my experience with mental illness and will be framed as such. I am not a doctor, psychiatrist or therapist or counselor of any kind
If you relate to my struggles, it’s OK to ask for help. the barrier to obtaining help is too high, but gets lower over time.
I will try to make sure that any links in my blogs will stay viable. But the rest of this entry will go unedited. As its part blog, part diary as I (unfortunately) live through history. I want to preserve this for my own posterity.
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Crafting Spoons:
This is how a single video game improved my mental health to (almost) normal. I ramble. I will take a lot of words to go from late march to today (or so). So this is more a summary of my mental health journey. Where I basically outline my mental health, from the first day of quarantine to today, the middle of June. So for 1 diary entry, this will be long. But for the time elapsed, this as a single entry will be short. And for my own reference.
At the time of writing this, I have not actually played Final Fantasy 7 Remake. I can’t afford it yet. I hope I will one day, though thanks to online streaming, I was able to live that story along side other people. Either reacting for the first time, or seeing how other people reacted to certain story beats I knew were coming.
I played the original game a long time ago, so there was a lot I thought would not be surprising. Yet the changed in Remake were strong enough, that it was like I was re-experiencing it all for the first time, but even more so.
I only mention how strongly I resonated with the story, of a video game, as it was the second step in a process during Quarantine. This date of this blog going live June 16th 2020.

Late March 2020:
The first step was my last day at work, before beginning self-isolation. I promised myself “I’m Going to get SO MANY things done!”. Yet the day after, I spent my time laying around, and feeling terrible about everything.
Part 1 of my quarantine was falling behind on my self-care, eating under prepared food to stave off hunger pangs. I did not track my weight, but the few socially distant outings I had with friends or family (technically plural as I had 2 such outings across a month and a half) mentioned my weight. I looked like I had lost weight. I did not have the spoons to be upset about how that was the opposite of a compliment on my current health. Even if those people “meant well.” So clearly my diet was both unhealthy and not enough of everything.
I did not brush my teeth or any number of other things. I only made the bed and did the dishes, because it was less stressful than to see the sink full of every cup and dish I owned. I made my bed, sometimes, just to keep my cats from tracking dust between the sheets. A rumpled bed with grains in it would only disrupt my sleep * even * further. All of these things cost spoons. Preparing meals, brushing my teeth, my hair. Even the act of getting up to start one of these things, cost a spoon. Feeling guilty for not doing enough, to take care of myself, to do something fun, cost a spoon or two. Depending on how much I wallowed on those feelings, in a day.

Late April 2020:
In Part 2 of my quarantine. The video game Final Fantasy 7 Remake was released. At first I was sad that I could not buy it. I would not experience it myself.
Real grief of real loss, of friends, relatives, of people, or opportunities. Is so private and shut away from most people in my life. Yet I don’t care if people see me cry over a digital story I play on a black box plugged into my television, because those tears are not special to me.
The first time I watched a stream, someone “gifted” me a subscription. A way to take a deeper participation in chatroom. They paid the streamer on my behalf. All because I made a pun, about a moment over 6 weeks ago. I don't remember what triggered my humor. Or what I even said. But I decided to spend all of late April trying out a new hobby:
“I will try to get a laugh, giggle, guffaw or chuckle out of the host of every stream I watch.” I ended up with 5 or six of these “gifts”, across 4 other hosts on Twitch. This truly was a gift for me, who had to take a hard look at my budget to find ways to afford weekly groceries. And a couple jokes of mine turned out to be worth over $40, because other people found me funny.
Not that I received a penny of that, but somebody did. Because of something I had said. All of this together, the reactions, the money, it hit my endorphins. So I started looking for more people playing this game, so I could make more jokes. And those streamers would be paid more money, in my name, after they laughed.
I am not a pro or even amateur comedian. I despaired and cried, about something in the game, about how my life sucked. About how I was always a little hungry but did not have the energy to make more food. But I would crack a joke to break my own tension, and it improved multiple people’s lives. If for only a moment.
Then the drop happened, the shiny new-ness of the game passed. And I found myself struggling to keep watching Twitch. People on that website had moved onto other games. I moved to the YouTube website, but even I found myself burning out on * another * play through of the game. Quarantine was in it’s stride as May approached. The things I usually digested after work, or during my commute were drying up. I was running out of things I could make myself do to pass time.
Yet I had watched FF7Remake elapse several times. I began to search for how people had reacted to specific aspects of the game. Especially the biggest moments of Remake. Then I found myself preoccupied with how the game had been changed. Other people were wondering too.
Then I started forming an idea that I had not acted on in years, writing fiction. I have written original fiction in November 2019. I had 1/3 of a novel completed. Then I realized I have to start it over to start over to finish. Now it’s April, becoming May. I have written maybe 500 words between now and November. 0 of those words during quarantine.
I want to clarify what type of fiction I had not written in years,. Fan fiction. EW, gross, writing about other people’s work. No I’m not linking to that work here. But I have not written fan fiction in * years *. usually because I usually only did at the lowest points in my life. Yet this quarantine was a low in such a way that I did not have the energy of any sort of creative endeavor. No drawing, no reading, no doodling. Just wrap in a blanket and lay on the couch for hours a day. Maybe I would lie on the bed instead. Maybe I would play a video game I did own, maybe I would do nothing at all.
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Aside about my writing:
But as I try to develop my amateur writing into professional (hopefully one day). I am going through the same stages of writing as I did with drawing nearly 30 years ago. Look at other people’s work and interpret my own way. It would be different and it would be clearly a copy. But the final image, or story, would be my own creation. It would be trans-formative in some way, even if it was a * bad * copy.
Then I could take less and less from other’s work, more inspiration, until every aspect will be my own creation.
One of those “fan fiction’s” I started writing just over 20 years ago. (I wish I had done either reading or writing every day. Alas that is not my life, but I have been getting better with drawing, so I hope that my writing has improved as well). Specifically my longest , single, story. I have older, but they are lost to time, in a move, or a dead computer. My first, longest, story is in a box that I still have. Paper does not melt like the CPU of many of my computers.
Back then over 20 years ago, I had a no-good-day that turned into years of a bad time. I had trouble picking up a book I loved. But I could write something based on a story that I loved. It turns out that fan fiction saves me loads of time, I can jump into a familiar setting and just write characters (badly). Until I know them so well I can put them in scenarios and books of my own design.
Even if it took a long time to go from that to my latest attempt to finish an original novel.
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Back to the first days of May 2020:
I spent the last half of April digesting various videos, some live, some not, about my usual television, as well as so much time on a couple of video games. The majority of which was watching, only watching, Final Fantasy 7 Remake. As well as videos about the games that relate to it (it’s called the Final Fantasy 7 Compilation. Of which, Remake, is only the latest game).
Then as May began, I formed an idea that started like a low boiling pot on the back burner. Over three days I found a framing device, a place to start, and who to write about.
I knew I was onto something when I folded the laundry the day it was washed. I ate enough to not only stop hunger, but be satisfied with my choices. I sat up straight at my computer to watch all these videos. I engaged with real people, live.
I started talking to my online friends again (I forgot to mention that I had not contacted most of them for 6 months, 4 months before quarantine. My self-care had already been fragile, quarantine disintegrated what little I still had).

May 5th 2020:
I ate breakfast, an actual breakfast that resembled my diet before quarantine. There was fruit in it, it was a balanced meal. I had a cup of water that I bothered to refill throughout the day.
I went to sit at my computer desk and opened a word file. I was upset, what I was about to do would not help anyone but me. I thought it It felt selfish then, (looking back from mid-June it really feels selfish now). I started writing anyway. Only stopping to serve my needs, chores, and a reasonable amount of sleep.
I wrote, I wrote and wrote and wrote. I am convinced that it is terrible due to the sheer quantity. But I figured to tell the story I wanted to tell, get it out of my system, then after move onto something else. Something original, later.
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I’m still writing that story today, and editing as I write this blog.
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Back to early May:
In the “National November Writing Month” community. What I did for 2 weeks is called a “word sprint.” but instead of for 20 minutes, or an hour. I “sprinted” for 10-12 hours a day, for 2 weeks. According to my notes (I logged the numbers, so I could look back with hindsight for my own morale). Between May 5th 2020 and June 5th 2020, I wrote 274,000 words. 200,000 of which was written in two weeks.
The word count is something quantifiable, and going from 0 words to well-over 200,000 words in a month’s time changed my life. And I am about to explain how.
Between May 5th and May 19th, I wrote 10,000 words to 20,000 in a day. Believe me, or don’t. I want to capture my thoughts about this moment in my life. So that when the writing is hard. Or my muse refuses to give me anything. I can look back at this day. And remember what I am capable of. And that, at the time of writing this first draft, 2 acquaintances have already messaged me, wanting a link for when I submit this “fan fiction” online. So they can read it for themselves.
As I divide up the manuscript, it is arranged in three distinct arcs, that easily divide into 3 “parts”. Each of which are the equivalent of a novel in length.
I tried to write a short fan fiction. And I ended up with a novel trilogy.

The thing is that this video game, this Remake, is only part 1 of a new series. So when there is more game I can watch on the Twitch website. I will have more inspiration with which to write more story. I have notes for three to four more story ‘arcs’. That could each become their own novel, depending on how this game series continues.
But for now, I will soon have over 300,000 words to edit into a cohesive whole.

Around the end of the first week of writing, I noticed that I fell into a routine:
Wake up at this hour
Drink coffee for an hour
Have breakfast
Sit at my computer with a glass of water and some fruit
Break for lunch 4 hours later
Occasional breaks for walking up to an hour, a couple times a week, and daily chores
Have dinner four hours after lunch
Write until bed time, at such a time that I would be able to get 8 hours of sleep.

Something had happened to my spoons. I was not counting them. I was limited by the hours in the day. Eventually even my brain would turn to mush after so much creativity. But I Was Not Counting My Remaining Spoons. I have not felt this alive in a long, long, time.

I was inspired. I had come into a routine, around a hobby. And I had not touched any hobby since the day after my last day at work. I was focused, I had a plan. I follow that plan to this day.
And in the fourth week of may I did something I had not done in 3 months. I brushed my teeth. Then I brushed them again. I put clean clothes on like I was going to work. Picked for comfort for sitting at my desk.
The next day, I brushed my teeth, again.

Daily I noticed no change, except for the word count. But weekly, I did more things, and I did them more easily. By June I did them effortlessly. I still need to exercise daily, to hit my potential.
But because I did not play a game, because I lingered on Twitch and YouTube, and gave the story beats so much thought. I became inspired to put in work, real work, into anything at all. Even if it was just intended to be me telling a story to myself.

June 2020:
I finally noticed that the world was (metaphorically) on fire. And had been in ways I knew of, and ways I did not, since before I was born.
Now, before quarantine, my mental health was still delicate. I had a lot of bad days, before Quarantine slammed on my head and trapped me on my couch for over a month. But to re-address those that suffer more than me. As I sit here, writing for hundreds of hours, for * fun * and people are dying. People are struggling to not be murdered.
And I complained about depression and anxiety pressing me into the couch.
I am not an advocate. As I stretch my daily spoon count. I do * not * want to have to spend time moderating this website, or it’s comments. Nor am I going to brag, or worse, humble brag, about what I have done, for others, since the beginning of June 2020.
Just know that as things came to a head in the beginning of June. I added to my list of things I would do on a given week. That I had not done the week before.I spent May growing my mental health into something that resembled normal, for me. MY spoon count could now be spent on 8-10 hours of productive work in a day. While my self care routine had stabilized to closer to my best, than it had been in six months.
As I have told others I know, suffering from their own mental health issues in these times. I “had put my own oxygen mask on first.”
Now it’s time for me to help others. Again, I am not going into how, here. But each week, I promise myself to do more. Incremental steps in policy serve no one. But incremental steps for me, who lives with a chronic mental illness. Using spoon theory to quantify what I am capable of in a day. Incremental steps are how I got from what I was in March, to how I felt today.
So that I can stand on my own feet.

I went from full time watching television, online videos and playing video games, ignoring my social circles.
To the biggest word sprint I have ever typed in my life. To a state of better health than months before quarantine even started. To meeting friends in a socially distant manner, or getting back in touch with the ones separated by a screen.
All because a video game, I played over 20 years afo, had been remade. All because of the internet in the form it is on this day. I could enjoy the game for what it was, without purchasing it myself.

Since I started this blog entry:
The story continues to be written, even to this day, with even more creative endeavors spinning off. As I near the end of this trilogy, more projects had appeared. They exist because this trilogy exists.
As the trilogy wraps up, and I spend less time in a day on it. I have more time for other projects. So that I am still working steadily, on something. My routine is preserved. Even as it stutters sometimes. My new structure holds together.
I have no idea what the next week will bring, for me, for my spoons, especially for the world. I only hope that it will be better.
My experiences, over the last 8 weeks, has shown me that it is capable of getting better. For me, for my mental health, for the world.
As much as it hurts, as things done or undone cannot be taken back. Hopefully one day more people will find more security and rest.

It could get better. In a week, in a month, in a year, we shall see how.
It will get better. It has to.

Any alternate path would only hurt so much more. I only give it thought to remind myself, week to week, that I have to get better. I have to stretch my endurance, so I can * make * things get better for someone somewhere.

This fan fiction trilogy was always going to end. There was going to be a day, and it’s coming soon. In which I will not add to or edit parts of these 3 novels ever again.
I am not going to let all those extra spoons lying around. That would be a waste.
I am am amateur writer, artist, maker. A professional craftsman. There is a lot I can do with all the free time that is coming up soon. A whole list of things I can do, with or without leaving my apartment during Quarantine.

Today is June 16th. The protests went worldwide long ago and they have not only not stopped. But they have spread in the issues and problems they try to address.

The year is not even half over yet. And I am just getting started.