I am admitting to a few faults that stop my writing progress. One of them is the game “Candy Crush.” Yep, the one that is advertised on those streaming services.
I don’t even remember if it is a TV commercial too. I see it so often that I roll my eyes, but I still play the silly game.
I don’t know why it is so addictive.
My world is divided by before and after illness. Before my illness I escaped mainly through books. I read a lot of Robert Heinlein, Andre Norton, Isaac Asimov, and other fantasy and sci-fi authors. My parents received some first and second editions of Edgar Rice Burroughs, which is why I know he wrote at least one Western. It was really good and sometimes I wish I had stolen that book from my parents library before they sold everything.
After my illness, I had a period of time where I couldn’t read. I would read a sentence and seconds later I couldn’t remember what I read. I would sit on the word “the” for hours. It was then that my late-hubby, Otto Tune, introduced me to games like “Bejeweled.” That first year I would sit in front of the computer, looking at the jewels and losing every game.
Even though a normal person would think these games were time-wasters, I found that every day I got better and every day my mind started to make connections. While I was on some serious chemotherapy, my brain had lost several connections. It was amazing that I could speak. As I got better with “Bejeweled,” “Candy Crush,” and other games like them, by brain started recognizing patterns again.
I learned a very important concept. Reading is pattern recognition.
It took over a year before I could read again. It took another year before I could write anything that was comprehensible. It has been over fifteen years since I lost my life. I have built a new life because of the wisdom of my late-hubby.
When I rebuilt the connections to my brain, I found that the memories that were so vivid had lost the emotions connected to them. A lot of the emotional pain except for the deepest scars were gone. I wondered if I had lost the ability to feel.
Sadly I found out that I hadn’t. When my late-hubby died four years ago, I felt the greatest emotional pain that also hurt my physical form. When the pain became too great to bear, I turned to my little Foxy and to the games.
I’ve been told that escapism is bad. I actually don’t believe that. I think that when the emotions are too powerful, it is a blessing when we have something to distract us if only for a little while.
Escapism becomes bad when we lose ourselves and don’t come back.
In a few days I will celebrate the life of my late-hubby. On the 19th it will have been four years since his death. I can think of him now without wanting to escape the emotions. I think that is a win.