Madness, Memoir, Menagerie, Uncategorized

RPGs and PTSD or How Gaming Turned into Therapy

(originally written April, 2020)

I have a long and complex personal history with RPG’s (role playing games). I started playing Dungeons & Dragons in high school with a boyfriend. During the time I was dating him, he used elements of gaming as one of several methods of manipulation and psychological abuse. Further in, the abuse turned physical. I came out of that time with very few memories of actual game play. I remembered the characters I created and minimal mechanics of how to play. I also came out of the experience with understandably mixed feelings about gaming, role playing of any kind along with so much other baggage that mixed together in a crazy anxiety stew.

I’ve always loved all of the elements that led to the creation of Dungeons & Dragons and other RPG’s. I’ve been a Tolkien fan practically since birth. Fairy tales, Fantasy and Science Fiction have been my go to reading since before I could read at all. I was ever the child who believed in fairies. As an adult I still do. My childhood was filled with all of the games of pretend and imagination. Role play was already second nature long before I knew D&D existed in its own right. I love character creation, storybuilding, fantasy art–I was built hard-wired for RPG’s. But that was corrupted in the blink of an eye for me.
Many of my friends have always been gamers. They’re my tribe. So in my 20’s, when I still could not feel safe participating in game play, I sat in on sessions with my friends–watching, listening to the stories grow through the games they played, and sketching. I enjoyed the atmosphere even though it felt too scary to join in. The visions they conjured as they played fed my imagination and my art. I felt certain I would never play again, though I’ve held onto my original set of dice to this day. They’re colorful, sparkly and they still felt good to hold and to look at the light shining through them. And I guess some part of me refused to fully admit defeat. I had a tiny spark of hope that I might someday use them again.

A few years ago, I saw light shining into my self inflicted darkness. ( here I should point out that I am fully aware that the trauma was never my fault, but continuing to hide from something I knew I’d probably enjoy was entirely a self made prison.) The timing might finally be right, after more than 25 years since I left the boyfriend and his abuse behind.

I’d known from before we started dating that Zen and his husband were gamers. I tuned out his stories of gaming because I couldn’t face this thing I wanted to do but felt I couldn’t do. My husband also enjoyed gaming when we first married. I sat in on their games too, but life had taken us away from that experience so he had not done any gaming himself for maybe 10 years or more.

I felt scared and intimidated by trying to learn a new thing while fighting off panic and anxiety that I had always felt around gaming and adding up the numbers quickly and under perceived pressure. When I feel anxious or triggered my brain can’t do any of the things that should come easily. That kind of compounds any other fears or anxieties already present.

One day Zen told me how much his husband, Paul, loved sharing his love of gaming with newbie. He loves teaching new people how to play. He has infinite patience with the often clumsy newbie. I tentatively reached out and asked if we could try it to see if I could do this.

Paul chose a game system that only uses d10’s (10 sided dice). That simplified everything. That reduced the pressure and anxiety by half at least for me. The game was Vampire: the Masquerade.

At first, it was just the four of us with Paul as the storyteller, or game master. (GM). Keeping the group very small gave me a sense of safety as I learned. Once I began to feel more secure in my role and in my skills, we added a few more friends to our group. Then we started exploring other systems using d20’s and all the other dice too. I still get anxious and stressed at the beginning of a gaming session, but I can feel even that easing up little by little with every new session.

We’ve been playing for about three years together now, and I look forward to gaming no matter what system we’re playing. I know that if I begin to fall, my group will catch me and show me the way back to where I need to be, with patience and love and lots of fun. Gaming has provided a creative outlet, therapeutic benefits, new ways to apply my own creativity, new friends, new ways to interact with friends and strangers alike and more opportunities for growth with every session.

And an ongoing obsession with shiny, sparkly, colorful dice! I still use my original dice too. Only now I have several other sets, despite some guy at a local gaming store questioning my choices in dice purchasing. Sad customer service aside, I’m certain one can never have too many dice sets…

And now, with social distancing in place, I’ve been battling my difficulties with technology. We’re using Discord for gaming. I find technology challenging, daunting and stressful. But I’m not letting that stop me. Tomorrow, I’ll participate in a third gaming session using Discord chat and digital dice apps. Soon, even that won’t phase me much.

It may not seem like such a big thing to most people. Gaming is even regarded as ridiculous and frivolous to some. But to have reclaimed that piece of myself in this way has been profoundly empowering. To have friends and lovers who cared enough to help me reach this point makes me feel wealthy beyond measure. My gratitude for this gift is limitless.

Memoir, Menagerie, Muse, Uncategorized

Backyard Superheroes

Bat Cat and Wonder Woman

My own children at ages 5 and 7 in costumes I made for them

Wonder Woman, Wolverine, Batman, Storm, Rogue, Spiderman, Superman, Kitty Pryde, Bionic Woman and Bionic Man– heroes a child could find in popular culture, not just in comic books, in the late 70’s and early 80’s.

As children, we wore all of their mantles, my best friend, and I. In the twilight between our houses where we played all summer, weekends, and after school. From comic books to movies to TV shows, we tried out each one for our imaginary play.

Before cosplay was even a word before Halloween costumes graduated from boxy painted vinyl jumpsuits with cheesy plastic masks. And long before you could easily find replica props for your favorite characters, we became all of our favorite characters with nothing but our own minds’ eyes. Visualizing every detail of costuming as we played, we ‘saw’ each other vividly as the characters we portrayed every day together.

We imagined complex worlds for our heroes to play in–worlds rich and nuanced and complete in every detail as if we’d been transported there by Scotty himself.

Onlookers, outsiders, or parents only saw a couple of kids, playing, riding bikes, rollerskating, running, yelling, laughing and dreaming together. They couldn’t see the villains we battled every day as we saved the world in one-hour increments, one afternoon at a time. Every. Day.

We rarely, if ever, allowed anyone into this sacred space of our imagination. It was an unspoken agreement, but we both knew that others, especially adults, were unlikely to comprehend us and how we played, nor even how we discussed plans for play.

There was nothing sinister or sneaky here. It was simply a private world where we could truly be whomever or whatever we wished, without fear of bullying or teasing. We could be real behind the safety of our make-believe masks.

Though we could not have articulated or even fully identified it all ourselves at the time, we knew, on some level, that our games of pretend were unique. We knew that we were tackling deeper problems through play than anyone would expect children to even consider, let alone understand. It didn’t even matter that we, ourselves, were not conscious of all the complex emotions and concepts inherent in battling imaginary foes. It was all still there, bubbling beneath the surface. Inner demons, bullies, the unfair powerless feelings children often experience for any number of reasons–all these were processed through putting the bad guys in jail–usually after great chases, grueling battles, wounds and scars, captures and daring rescues.

Powerful discussions and profound healing took place daily under the metaphorical disguises of larger than life superheroes and villains.

As we grew older and found that the heroes on page and screen were no longer multi-dimensional enough to hold all that we ourselves were becoming, we created our own characters, our own alter ego heroes. Never committed to writing or art but instead, indelibly etched into our psyches as all the old masks fell away. We didn’t need physical representations of these characters–we simply saw them in ourselves, in each other, with no question of the accuracy in the details. We’d been playing together our whole lives, best friends. We had a connection so strong that we might have been communicating telepathically anyway.

To quote my friend “Like the X-Men and most other heroes, we didn’t ask for these powers, we just had them. We just were them. And we always will be.”

Our imaginations were our greatest superpowers. And still are.

Knowing that playtime hour awaited us at the end of most days allowed us to conquer whatever challenges our ordinary days held for us, large or small. Because we had our secret identities, the selves we presented to the workaday world could withstand whatever we had to. We knew we were strong, invulnerable creative beings.

What are you looking at?

Myself, age 4, 1974

We knew we were able to leap tall buildings in a single bound, along with any other obstacle we encountered. We knew had each other’s backs. We knew we were heroes.

My own original childhood character’s superpower was turning illusions into reality, hiding in plain sight or being noticed, colorfully, at will. She shaped the world around her into whatever she wanted to see, she manipulated colors, all the colors in her world. She was a living Rainbow. She often made something from nothing.

Now, as an adult, it is my great privilege to bring to life those cherished visions everyone has of their favorite character, real or imagined. I sew cosplay costumes, I make ordinary people (children AND adults) feel and look like movie stars, kings and queens, gods and goddesses.

My job is to make the world more colorful. I manipulate colors. I am a Rainbow. I often make something from nothing. What’s your superpower?