Yellow Wizard Needs Food Badly

So, I hit on something today that I think may resonate with folk, especially folk who've grown up, like I have, in this technological, non-stop age of ours (and especially for this current global / national climate we're in). It'll take a little explaining, but if you bear with me, I think this might be a thing that I'm not the only one who needs to hear.
 
To get the full picture, we've got to go back a bit. Here we go.
 
So, recharging my batteries was not something I was ever taught how to do. In fact, quite conversely, I was raised with the understanding that only the absolute minimum amount of rest or breaktime were permissible, and anything more than that was luxurious, selfish, and unacceptable. It didn't matter that I got straight A's, graduated high school with so many accolades and honors they had to invent a new award for me (that's not a joke; that's real), and finished my BA (major and minor) two quarters early and at the top of my department. Breaks weren't allowed.
 
There's all of the "your parents do to you what was done to them" psychoanalysis blah blah blah that I could try to sort through, but what it really came down to was that my brother, who is severely disabled and requires 24/7 care, needed support. My dad had to work, my mom was with my brother all day every day, so when I got home from school, it needed to be all-hands-on-deck as quickly as possible. There wasn't time for me to take a couple of hours to play video games or watch tv or read a book; I needed to get my homework done so I could change a diaper or feed my brother while my mom finished working on dinner so we could eat.
 
So instead, I'd get up at 5am so I could squeeze in an hour of playing a video game before all hell broke loose for another day of school, homework, and care providing. That morning time was sacred. The sun wasn't up yet. The house was quiet. I had the TV I'd bought with my own money in my room so I could hide and play and escape to somewhere more manageable and understandable than the world.
 
Then, soon enough, it would be time for breakfast, then off to school and it all started back over again. But for that little stretch of time in the morning, I could do what I wanted to do.
 
Now, that's a lot of backstory to get to my point, but ask anyone who's spent more than a few hours with me, I'm not a brief person and I like context. So, here's what I'm getting at:
 
This week (month? [year? {what day is it right now?}]) has been... rough.
 
We can all agree that between the Covid-19 lockdown, losing our jobs, not seeing our friends, not being able to safely go out, and now this latest onslaught of cops killing Black people (and now Black people being found hanged in trees, for Christ's sake), things are... yeah, they're rough. And it's taking a massive emotional toll on a lot of us.
 
And add to that, many of us, myself being a prime example, were never taught how to clock out, take a break, and recover.
 
Some of that, I think, is a product of the time we grew up in as compared to the time our parents and grandparents did. By the time I was in – what? the fourth grade? earlier? – we had computer lab and internet time at school. Mario taught me typing. I built a website dedicated to Darth Maul in a summer class between fifth and sixth grade (fun side note: the guy who would become – and still is – my best friend was also in that class. He made a Pokémon site. It was pretty bomb). I got my first cell phone in high school (lord, I miss that Nokia 3390).
 
All of that to say: we were screwed from the start. This so-called "grind culture" of ours started before we even had a chance to figure out who we were, let alone how we would handle such a non-stop, in-your-face, all-consuming, immersive world. We can't escape the notifications and the alarms and the demands on our attention. Even if you leave your phone at home for a day (I still can't get myself to do it; maybe for a couple of hours at a time, but leave the house and drive around in LA without a way to call for help if I need it? Are you kidding?) the stress of detaching is massive.
 
What if you miss that phone call? What if your big break comes in while you're off hiking and it blows right on past you? What if Kyle says something funny and you don't get to immediately reply with a funny gif? (Also, just, while we're here: it's a hard-G sound. "Graphic Interchange Format," not, "Jraphic Interchange Format. Please and thank you.)
 
Point is: we don't know how to unplug because we're the pioneers into this Wild West of the technological world. Asking our parents to teach us how to manage stress in the world as it exists today is as absurd as expecting them to teach us how to update our iOS or rename our WiFi network. (Take a sec and enjoy that image in your head. You're welcome.)
 
So, it's up to us to figure out how to manage our stress in this absolutely out-of-control world that we're currently trapped in. And it's that very thing that's got me thinking about those quiet mornings playing Pokémon Stadium and Ocarina of Time.
 
There are a couple of games that are strange coping devices for me. Yoshi Story comes out periodically; it was the game I got for the birthday which I spent in the children's ICU at my brother's bedside. The nurses brought a TV and an N-64 from the playroom so I could play my new game, even though I couldn't be at home because my brother was too sick for any of us to leave.
 
The other one is Gauntlet.

Man, I don't even care what iteration of it we're talking about, Gauntlet is my jam. It was the old arcade version that I'd play in the lobby of the Shriner's Children's Hospital in San Francisco while my parents would take my brother for his annual appointment. Those visits were long. Like, hours and hours long. So, I'd have a pile of quarters and I'd just button mash my way through maze after maze of endless enemies and portals.
 
Well, I haven't been doing so hot, so this week, I busted out my N-64 and plugged in Gauntlet: Legends. I already had a few characters who'd beaten the whole game multiple times over, but I also had one that was only maybe two or three levels in. I pulled him up and I've been going ham for the last two or three days. And it was this morning, in the quiet of the early morning once again, that I hit on something that I think is important.
 
So, after a few particularly hard levels and boss battles, my Yellow Wizard (always Yellow Wizard) "needed food badly." His health was low, so I figured I'd go back to the very first level of the game and just play it over and over (since I've basically memorized it), stock up on health and items, sell the items to buy more health, then repeat until he was back at full HP. So, I spent maybe an hour and a half this morning going through that one level over and over and over until my health was at max, I had a full ring of keys, I couldn't carry another potion if I tried, and my gold coffers were nicely filled.
 
That's when it hit me: Shit, man, Andrew needs food badly.
 
My HP meter is dangerously low. And sometimes, the way to replenish it, is to do one thing – something you know really, really well; something that always gives you a little bit of your health back; something simple and effortless but that puts a little more fuel back in your tank each time you do it – over, and over, and over, and over until your health bar is back at max.
 
It doesn't matter what it is. For Mandal the Yellow Wizard (yes, named for "Mandalf;" go watch the YouTube video; it's hilarious; Gauntlet just has a six-character limit on names. My other main character is "Gandal"), it was going through that one level ad nauseum until he couldn't eat another bite or store another potion. For Andrew the Stressed-Out Person, maybe it's bouncing between playing Gauntlet and reading fantasy or sci-fi books for a while.
 
But one thing is for sure and this is important: I had to make Mandal go through that level as many times as it took to get his level-45 ass back up to 4860/4860 health. Which means: I need to make myself go through my equivalent activity as many times as it takes to get my tank back to full.
 
So, if you're like me, and you're feeling pretty damn depleted, maybe today, take a second and think:
 
What thing do you really want to do?
 
No matter how ridiculous it may seem. What sounds really, really good? Reading a book? Drawing? Taking eighteen baths? Working out? Playing an old favorite video game that you've played a thousand times already? Meditating? Napping? Curling up in a ball on the floor and listening to Beyoncé until you can't resist dancing anymore?
 
And how long do you need to do that thing before you feel like you're at your max health? An hour? Three hours? Two days? A week?
 
Look, I know that California, as well as all the other states, is opening back up as though the Coronavirus is over. But let's be really real here: it's not over. It's about to get worse. LA, for sure, has not peaked, and now that restaurants and bars and hair salons are opening all over the place, people are going to spread this thing. We're not done. Which means, though: we have the time.
 
So, maybe this is the moment we all need to find our "level 1." Maybe this is the time we look inward and say, "Okay. Yellow Wizard needs food badly. Where do I get it?" And then we take however long it takes to fill back up.
 
There are a million "you can't pour from an empty cup" sayings, but as long as I can remember, mine's been: "Yellow Wizard needs food badly." I think today, however, is the first time I'm gonna go on a food hunt until that HP meter fills back up to max.
 
So, hey, wanna play co-op with me?