I think Pokémon Go saved my life

Why Pokémon is so special to me

I don't know if I've ever wrote about this here, but I'm a huge Pokémon fan. A poor Pokémon fan, but a fan nonetheless!

I grew up in a small town where most thought Pokémon was satanic, so I never meet anyone (in person) outside my family who liked it.

Even then, Pokémon was such an integral part of my childhood. I would log on every day to a Pokémon role-play in Habbo Hotel. And then I went to a role-play forum when that died. I spent a lot of time writing my Pokémon fanfiction with my friends, and we had an over arching story that was connected. It was really cool. I even became a Flying type Gym Leader within the forum. It was a small but close community.

It allowed me to connect with others who didn't think I was weird, or that I was going to hell.

I've never been able to afford the games, or play them by legal means. So you can't even imagine how excited I was when Pokémon Go released! I've been playing it on and off across the years, but lately, I've been back to my Pokémon era.

When trying to trade Pokémon with my brother, emulator-to-emulator, my brother reminded me that Pokémon Go exists. And I wanted to play again. It also was perfect! There would, soon, be an event where an absurd amount of Eternatus could be fought on a huge park in my city.

There was just one problem

I've been shut-in for years, never leaving my house unless it was strictly necessary. I can't be left alone on my own devices on the outside world because I'll get anxious and paranoid. My parents or my boyfriend have had to take me everywhere, and I rarely leave because of leisure, or just because I want to. I also developed a huge aversion to being seen or perceived, and my psychiatrist thinks it might stem from the AI incident.

Actually, I've been journaling more too. By hand. Do you know what the first entry in my current notebook says?

Sunday, July 3rd, 2022
... I've been wanting to go to a coffee shop and write for years, but I never get to do it because I'm scared for my life.

I can go out. Sometimes. But I need weeks or even months to prepare.

... Until a couple days ago, that is.

My therapist and my psychiatrist do think I've been doing some progress, but my mom has been desperate to see me go out of the house on my own volition, just because I want to. She wants me to have a normal life and be happy. And I want that, too.

Since nothing could ever convince me to go outside just for the sake of going outside, I looked at the Pokémon Go app in my phone and went "hell, what do I have to lose?"

The first day

The first day, I was terrified. And it took me hours to breathe normally before I told my mom something like "Hey, I want to go play Pokémon. Can you come with me?"

Something you need to understand about my mom is that she is NOT into Pokémon. She doesn't get it, she just knows I've been into it since I was a toddler. One of her favourite stories is that I was throwing a tantrum and crying that I wanted a Pikachu balloon. The balloon seller had to explain to her what a "Pikachu" is. And that's why she remembers Pikachu. She didn't even connect the dots that "Pikachu" and Pokémon Go are the same franchise until days later.

She was just happy that I wanted to go out, and that it was my idea. I had a blast, we chatted, sometimes she even asked me if I caught any Pokémon, and I would show them to her and explain another mechanics of the game, like hatching eggs and that I really wanted to hatch one.

The second day

I wanted to go outside and play again. My mom even came to ask me about it. But I kept making excuses to not go outside ("I have other things I need to do first") and, in the end, I panicked, had to take my anxiety medication, and did basically nothing for the rest of the day because I was panicking.

I didn't feel better until 10 PM, and I don't like to be outdoors at night. I live in a place where being a woman existing is dangerous.

The third day

As soon as I woke up, and before my bravery would be eaten by the passage of time, I went for a walk in the morning. And again that same afternoon, with a very important difference: I was by myself and didn't take my headphones with me. My mom was worried I might have a panic attack and she wouldn't be around, but I told her I wouldn't be far, I could quickly come back if things go awry. I would be fine.

And I was mostly fine! I would panic if the streets were empty, if a car parked near me, or if someone walked towards me when I had my back to them. But everything was manageable and easily fixable. I was on my own for a full hour!

Another thing that became painfully clear: I'm not in a good physical shape. I don't mean my looks, I mean my health. Granted, I live in a place where the streets are a little slant, and I'm not getting any younger, but it isn't normal.

We're nothing more than over-developed plants

I was feeling better. I stopped sleeping all day and all night. I stopped thinking about death so often. My mind felt less foggy. I was excited and having a lot of fun just from existing. For the first time in my life, existing wasn't painful, exhausting, dangerous or terrifying. It was enjoyable.

My only complaint is how I realized that walking, getting sunlight, and having a normal sleep schedule would fix a lot of my problems. We humans are really an over-evolved plant. And I hate that part. Our brains are so complex we can't figure out why or how it does many of its functions to keep us alive, but fulfilling the very primal basics makes a world of difference.

The big day

Naturally, I thought I was ready for the big hang out to get Eternatus! (Or, more like, Eternatus candies). I was expecting big crowds, a lot of noise and people, but also lots of greenery and nice walks!

My mom wasn't comfortable with letting me be alone in a place that's so far away from home, so she tagged alone.

I think the hardest part of the trip was the noise of the subway's trains approaching, or how everyone talks so loud. My headphones helped a lot, and after some breathing exercises (and my mom holding my hand), I was able to calm down and self regulate.

Even when I didn't meet new people (like a part of me wanted), the sense of community was enough to cheer me up. I think the best part was my mom realizing that I was trying to catch more "Pikachu"s, and watching entire families play together. Adults, young adults, teen, children, everyone was working together to defeat Eternatus, walking around, chatting, meeting new people, having a blast.

I really wanted to get close and talk to someone who actually knew what was going on, but I didn't want to leave my mom alone. And I also realized that now I am the creepy old lady.

After that, she took me to my boyfriend's flat, where I would spend the weekend.

Something's not right

So, I was feeling a lot better. I have newfound energy. A lot of projects and things to do are coming to my mind, and I'm writing them down as ideas of things to do later!

The problem is... I've been here before. I'll feel amazing for a week or two, and then it'll devolve to me not being able to sleep or eat because I'm being consumed by my new obsession.

Then everything will crash and burn.

So, now that I identified this pattern, I decided to pace myself. I also made the mental note to not make any promises or life-changing decisions while I'm feeling like this.

But those ideas kept coming back to me. Hell! I even thought "I'm feeling great, I'm cured! Maybe I could consider having children. Yes, it would be great! We'd love them and raise them right and—"

I don't want children, and I actually planned my suicide one time we got a scare. The problem was deciding when to commit it: before or after the baby was born?

And it's not like I hate children. Quite the opposite, I love children, and every child deserves parents, but not everyone deserves children. I'm one of those people. I know damn well I can't take care of them, I'm not mentally apt to be a mother, and I might even pass down my mental illnesses. Having children of my own would be cruel.

So, I was a little (very) worried. But I decided to not think about it and stick to my original plan: no life-altering decisions, or throwing myself into impossible projects, until I'm sure my current feelings of well-being are more permanent, and not a big fluke.

The day after

So, I was still feeling great! And my dear boyfriend took me to the park again to catch Pokémon with me! Or, more like, keep me company. He's not into Pokémon either! And he listened to me ramble and walked with me all the time.

At some point, there were a couple guys sitting beside us, talking about Eternatus and the battles. "I've seen dumb-asses using their Dubwools and Krabby's during the raids."

I looked down for a moment, thinking "Oh, I'm that dumb-ass."

We also went out to eat, which was something we haven't done in a while.

Later, let's just say that I was engaging in very risky behaviour. And then I wanted to go out and play again.

My boyfriend was very, very surprised. And weirded out. Usually, I'd go outside for a bit and just shut myself indoors for days (or weeks) trying to recover. He also realized I didn't want any sugary snacks. He even asked me "Are you okay?", which made me pick a drink to make him worry less.

Seemingly out of nowhere, after I dragged him all the way to a Starbucks, we were sitting down. I was too quiet. I wanted to cry. He was on his phone, I was on mine. The lights were too bright. The world was too loud. I was exhausted.

"I think I've given all I had in me for today."

And his worry instantly kicks in. "Are you okay? What's wrong? Do you want to go?"

So we leave, and I'm very quiet on the way back. I don't want to talk. I want to cry, but I can't. I can barely focus. I don't know what's wrong with me.

Slowly, I ponder if I should go to the psychiatric hospital. I'm worried I might be going through a hypomanic episode, and I feel like I should tell someone. But I feel I would only waste everyone's time because I'm not actively trying to kill myself or harm myself or others. I'm conflicted and I can't breathe in peace. I'm nauseous and want to vomit, but I can't.

My parents come to pick me up earlier than planned, and I decide to go to the psych hospital and ask for my boyfriend to come with me, since he's been with me the entire day and can provide more insight into what happened.

From 120 to -50 in a snap: the hospital visit

One morning, you wake up thinking you can dominate the world if you want to, that you can tackle all the projects you've dreamed of, only to crash and burn that very same afternoon.

It was ridiculous, but not the first time I've had an amazing day only to end it on a bitter note like this. It's not the first time I've gone through this.

I go in, fill the questionnaire with my boyfriend, and a nice female doctor talks to me for a bit. Then I go back to my partner and start crying while I process what I was told.

The doctor thinks I might have BPD. And this is something I've been told before, but somehow never came up again, even when it's all over my notes and medical history. I guess my neuro-psychology tests, confirming ADHD and discarding bipolar disorder took centre stage.

So now we're both called in, and I cry and nod as I listen. The first time that BPD was brought up was also during an emergency. And that time, I felt like the doctor told me "You're not sick! The problem is your personality. The problem is you."

But this time was different. The doctor was so understanding and explained to me her suspicion's (and the medical team's). She also told me is not set in stone that I have that, but it's worth to look into so I can get the treatment I need.

It would also explain why I'm always feeling either "This is the happiest I've ever been" or "Something is deeply wrong with me and I'm rotten to the core"

At some point, I kind-of stopped listening. Not because I wanted to, but because the exhaustion of the past few days kicked me hard to the point my boyfriend had to help me walk and move for a bit.

Also, just for the record, the picture there is my hand, but it's an old picture.

The aftermath

So, the doctors recognizes and acknowledges that this possible diagnosis can be pretty heavy on patients, and recommends that someone keeps an eye on me for a little. So I decide to spend an extra night on my boyfriend's place.

She also let me know I could ask my next psychiatrist about some document to help me with school, something that can prove I'm, indeed, a human and not AI.

The next day, I was mostly back to being myself. A little slow and trying to take things easy, but I still wanted to go out! And my boyfriend was happy to oblige.

And now I'm here.

I just remembered I was talking about Pokémon Go

Mental health is awfully complicated. We're both very complicated beings and over-developed, omnivorous plants.

With every year that passes, I'm surprised I've survived this long. And I also feel a little silly that, out of all of the things, it was Pokémon what made me want to go out and touch grass.

It helped me when I was a child to feel less alone, and it's now helping me to learn how to enjoy life, something I've always struggled with. I think I can tell you exactly where I was in life when reminiscing about all of my Pokémon adventures, the friends I had and what their favourite Pokémon where, and why.

At first glance, it might not seem obvious how "We need to evaluate you in the personal disorders clinic" and Pokémon Go are related. But it's self-evident to me.

If I didn't feel the need to go outside and play, my doctors would probably take longer to go "Hey, maybe we should check if she has this other thing?"

Whatever the result is, I'll get the treatment I'll need. I'll be able to better understand myself, and I'll tell my friends, my nephews and nieces, the story of how Eternity helped me to strengthen my precious Eternatus, about how I took on a bunch of gyms with my Charizard, Amber, and why I named my shiny Shellder "Shellery", and how all of that helped my doctors to improve my treatment and live a more fulfilling life.

Fun fact: Everyone thought her name came from a clever pun between "Shellder" and "Shiny". But I just thought "Shellery" sounds like "Celery", and it made me giggle.

I know this was a long story. If you got here, I thank you for reading. Tell me "Long Live Eternity! Long Live Amber! Long Live Shellery!" to let me know you read this whole ramble.

Thanks again. See you soon.

-Jim