My Thoughts on "/AFK", A World of Warcraft Documentary

/AFK - Away From Keyboard. 6 Years of World of Warcraft

This post is not necessarily a critique of the documentary found online, but it did raise some thoughts and feelings that I wanted to share.

The documentary follows a group of gamers who started playing World of Warcraft from day of launch, back in 2004. It continued to follow them and their gaming habits over a period of 6 years.

It just so happens that there were two sets of brothers (so four guys), plus one best friend, and a guy who has a condition that limits him to a wheelchair. It's not made entirely clear whether they all played together.

Other people who feature in the documentary are a couple of psychologists, a game designer, a mother whose son was addicted to video games (Everquest), and a smattering of other gamers / gaming culture participants and observers.

In those 6 years, the two gamers who were in steady relationships - one was married, the other was engaged - experienced those relationships end.

One of the other gamers became engaged, and the remainder continued to be single, while discussing varying levels of emotional response to their situation.

The documentary doesn't explicitly say that being a gamer and/or being a compulsive World of Warcraft gamer was the contributing factor to the way their lives played out over the course of those 6 years, however the questions were geared toward asking the gamers how they felt the game influenced their lives, and detailed their delights and frustrations with their gaming habit, ultimately rising to very emotional responses toward the end of the documentary.

Like life, their relationship with gaming changed over time. For instance, while some dove head-first into a compulsive gaming schedule, others pulled back and left gaming behind - at least, for a while.

Personally, I found myself watching the documentary with a critical eye. Mostly because, as a gamer myself, I was already somewhat defensive against the idea that gaming automatically means anything negative, or positive, for that matter.

I'm always wary of documentaries that want to make any particularly biased point. However, having had some insight into game development culture, I was interested to see what responses the documentary director was able to glean and how they decided to present this in the final cut.

My opinion of the lives the six fellas led in the two thousand-odd days the documentary spanned ranged from "that's no surprise" to "I wish they'd had more help".

I rarely felt that the documentary showed the guys having healthy social or gaming lives, since it only ever featured them playing, talking about playing, or at gaming events. This documentary was a narrow view into what their lives were like, and interviews with their partners and friends painted a similarly small world, with people feeling deprioritised, left out, or downright ignored and concerned.

One particular instance was quite saddening: I don't know if the gamer was being contrary or resentful, but when asked if he felt his friend minded him playing games so much, he responded with a resounding "no". Meanwhile, his friend was shown to comment that he was concerned with the amount of time he spent gaming.

We watch documentaries hoping that we're being presented with a truthful account, but sometimes I wonder if the way things are presented is the order in which it really happened. Either way, it was a sad moment... mostly because I know a healthy relationship can be achieved based purely on how I've played games, interacted with various gaming communities, and how I've seen games enter the lives of countless people.

But I also fully recognise that, like any form of entertainment or pleasure-inducing activity, human beings have the capacity to overdo it and lose themselves to hedonism.

At the times the documentary was being filmed there was very little academic material available to help people decipher what was really going on when people were delving head first into an imbalanced relationship with video games. Not that I can offer much help there, either... but I am fairly self-aware of how video games can become a coping mechanism when people aren't feeling like they're able to handle the uncertainties of daily life.

And so I'm reminded of certain phases in my life in particular.

* * *

Nintendogs

My first Nintendog: Cookie :)
(Dannii is seen to the right)

When I moved away from my home town to pursue my degree in London, I was struggling with loneliness and intense depression.

I was a big mess when it came to knowing how to process my emotions, and one of the core reasons was that I no longer had a pet.

I had spent a lot of time with my cat when I was a kid and, as an adult now, I can fully recognise that relationship was built on my conflicted introversion; I needed time alone, without being asked questions or needing to achieve.

Looking back now, I realise I handled anxieties well because I was able to go and chill and be myself around my cat for a good portion of the day afterward.

Now, in my life as an undergraduate, my friend - and future husband :-) - suggested I try Nintendogs when it was launched for the DS. It was a pretty sophisticated virtual pet simulation and he thought if nothing else it would prove a nice distraction for me, seeing how I couldn't have a pet of my own in the city. This was a good compromise.

And it really was.

I was able to dote on my virtual puppies, communicate with them verbally (which made a huge psychological impression), and I got to carry them around with me which made me feel even closer to them. I played with my puppies on a daily basis, gave them food, took them for walks, bathed them and trained them regularly. I remember finding myself a quiet spot in the media building at my university and spending my two hour breaks hanging out with my puppies and other DS games, rather than hanging out with classmates (which usually meant spending money I didn't have). I simply preferred being in my own world where things were just peaceful and undemanding.

When I graduated and started working, I lost interest in my Nintendogs, especially after something went wrong with my save file, and my puppies - Cookie, Dannii and Megan - were unresponsive. It just wasn't the same with new puppies.

Even so, I knew I could come back to puppies any time, and they were there for me when I needed them.

They'd served their purpose. Besides, I'd found a new game...

Animal Crossing

Little Chorna in Chozton during the Acorn Festival. :)

My love affair with Animal Crossing is well known, but how it became a coping mechanism is a different matter.

Once again, my husband introduced me to Animal Crossing. I had been playing with my Nintendogs when the advert for Animal Crossing: Wild World came on TV. I only ever saw the advert once, but it was enough.

I'd immediately fallen in love with the concept of having my very own little village to relax in. I distinctly remember the idea of collecting shells from the beach appealing to me a lot, since I had missed living by the sea after moving to the city.

I finally got the game on my birthday that year and I never looked back.

I've played the game every single year since 2006, and almost always I did it because I wanted a retreat from real life. Animal Crossing was pure escapism for me, and a place where responsibilities were removed. The innocence, charm and a calm and peaceful pace of life in Animal Crossing contrasted heavily with the burden of responsibilities, rough attitudes, and the frantic pace of life I was experiencing in the office at work and the daily commute.

In fact, my husband also bought the game just a few days after I started playing, as he'd been playing it on my device while I was working on the weekends, and we played together for a good few months. He and I both agree those were some of our fondest gaming memories; he used to tell me how he loved to go fishing in Animal Crossing after work, just to unwind in the evenings listening to the ocean waves. He called Animal Crossing his therapy. I called Animal Crossing my sanctuary.

It helped that I was able to use the game to meet people all over the world who enjoyed what Animal Crossing represented, and in some ways Animal Crossing: Wild World was my first ever encounter with massively multiplayer online gaming; I was able to play with up to three other players but I was also part of a much larger online community - ACUKE.

I found myself coming back to Animal Crossing every time I felt like I needed a safe and stable place to go to in my life. I couldn't escape my real life surroundings, but with Animal Crossing I could access a charming perfect world literally in the palm of my hands, and private to me, with visitors coming and going only if I wanted them to.

The music was up-lifting. The characters were funny. The environment was beautiful. It was what I needed to get away and feel sane. And it wasn't long before I started naming my town(s) exactly what they were for me: my Hideaway.

World of Warcraft

My first World of Warcraft character :)

In the winter of 2007, my husband and I decided we would like to find out what World of Warcraft was all about.

We were both working very hard in our jobs. We seldom had money to go out, and worse, we were in an awkward house-sharing situation in a busy part of London that we didn't want to admit we like very much.

Entering World of Warcraft was a holiday for us. We made friends online and since we were both playing together, we played side by side on our laptops while sat in bed.

The shared experience meant we understood the importance of showing up for a raid on time, or how to time our (quick) meals. We kept each other in check for bed time. But, we did basically come home from work and play World of Warcraft. And we stayed in and played World of Warcraft on the weekends... and this went on for months.

Finally, we'd moved out into our own place and got our cat. By then I'd also stopped playing on the same server as my husband, and I ventured into RP servers that felt a bit more casual about levelling and in-came game content. It was a few months later that I felt I was getting far too involved in the game - house chores weren't being done, and I felt deep guilt for neglecting my cat who had gotten used to sleeping on pizza boxes. So I went cold turkey and stopped playing.

My husband ended up playing through all of the content of latest expansion at the time, and basically got bored of the constant grinding through content. And that's when we stopped.

Other games took over, but we were more controlled about how much time we spent playing, often stopping for dinner and a movie or a TV show that we'd watch together. This was an active choice on our parts, and it helped. I'd also specifically make time to spend with my cat and keep him entertained.

Casual Mobile / Facebook Games

Pet Society, a Facebook casual game I was really into.

It just so happened that overlapping this time I started working in the gaming industry. By mandate I had to play more games during the day, so I really got into trying all different types of games, not least Facebook games which were all the rage (and new) at the time. 

At this point I wasn't playing games so much as stress or anxiety management, or as a solution to having no money or access to entertainment. At least I didn't feel as though I was.

I started playing them mostly because they were fun, and I was playing much more analytically and being self-aware of my motivations for wanting to do anything in a game. I was expected to, also, since that awareness would be poured back into my job, which in turn made me an effective member of the team.

But... I was playing to destress. On the train, on the bus, any spare time in any given day, I was playing a quick game here, a casual game there, in an effort to distract myself from just how fast paced and tiring my day job really was. I was playing games to ignore the world around me on purpose.

It got pretty bad at one point: I was sleeping less than 5 hrs a night, and playing catch up on weekends. Once again, my husband and I had fallen into the trap of playing games almost every free moment of the day. Worse: I was playing through pain in my hands, which were redeveloping repetitive strain injuries I'd sustained during my university years. It might happen for one week and then we'd pull back from it... only to fall back into another week of full-on gaming when a new title came out.

I began to really re-assess how much time I spent gaming, and forced myself to step away from the computer by picking up new hobbies. So I taught myself to play the guitar (badly) and crochet (somewhat well). And I continued to do that today.

* * *

My special furbaby. :)

I suppose the conclusion of the matter is that I've had my fair share of experiences when gaming took over my life and was in one way or another a vice I settled for because it was the least self-destructive distraction I could think of.

However, I think part of the reason my husband and I have been able to self regulate our gaming habits is because we're both gamers, and we can see the behaviour mirrored in each other.

It's not always been the case that gaming never solved any of my problems. When I was feeling unable to change my situation, virtual worlds provided me an escape. And when I was sorely missing aspects of my life, or a sense of order and control, games provided just that. More importantly, I consciously chose games that I felt gave me that.

I think when it got really destructive was when I played so much that I actually actively neglected my daily self-care responsibilities. In my case they were simple things such as doing the house chores, taking care of my cat's daily routine, and more essentially, spending so much time sat down or in bed that I started to develop repetitive strain injuries in my hands. And that was very bad.

Today I play Animal Crossing and other games because I choose to spend time in them, but equally (and many ACUKErs will tell you this!) I vanish from the computer and games because I will choose to spend time with my cat, with my family, or sometimes just go outside and take nice photographs.

The /AFK documentary ultimately highlighted the similarities between the guys on the screen, and my own experiences as a gamer. This made me feel slightly uncomfortable.

My belief - as a gamer - is that gaming in itself isn't a problem. Because gaming isn't just World of Warcraft, or first person shooters, or competitive LAN parties. It's also party games like Wii Sports, board games like Scrabble, and interactive games such as I-Spy in the car.

But I do think people experiencing a crisis, or are under stress or anxious (whether they know it or not at the time), who find themselves turning to gaming as an escape, need support from their extended social group.

I think it's up to all of us, whether as virtual friends or physical friends around gamers, to look out for one another by encouraging each other to have a healthy balance online and offline. How we do that absolutely depends on the person we're talking to, but one thing the documentary really made clear was that the gamer has to be responsible for their gaming habits, too. It's nobody else's fault. Gaming is a choice.

And gaming should be fun. And when it starts to feel serious, upsetting, or perhaps more dangerously, numbing... that's when it's time to turn the game off and spend some time with your family and friends. :)

And if you're one of those people who feel like maybe your gaming isn't really doing you any good, I'm offering you my time. :) Feel free to drop me an email via chorna@acuke.com - I'm not a counsellor, or a psychologist. I'll just be your friend and listen to you, and maybe help you figure out how you'd rather spend your time today.