How to Play Life as a Game to Reduce Suicidal Thoughts
Imagine if life were a video game. If you don’t get to the next level on the first try, you’d feel better knowing you have an idea of what’s coming up next and can change directions to handle it better next time. You’d gather all the resources you need to be as successful as possible. You’d ask other players and NPCs (non-player characters) for help and clues. Your avatar would wear wild outfits just because you felt like it.
If this concept is triggering, I get it. When I say life is a game, I am not intending to trivialize your struggles in any way. I acknowledge that my perspective is very limited as a white woman with a good salary, so this approach may not work for everyone. I’m only representing life in this way because this reframe helped me spark curiosity about my future rather than sit in a well of hopelessness.
I had daily suicidal thoughts for years, and now I rarely experience any. Here’s how I did it.
1. I decided what level I was on.
In video games, there are always challenges between you and the next level. That’s what makes the game a game — the contrast between obstacles and wins. Video games, like life challenges, help fulfill the human needs of competency and interesting stimulation — whether it produces pleasant emotions or not.
During my healing process, I realized I needed to radically change my life perspective and philosophy to stop my suicidal thoughts. My outlook on life was as negative as it gets–that I’d be stuck failing in work, love, friendship, and self-development forever if I didn’t end my life. I’d choose a perspective I wanted to create, which I called a “level.” I started with, “It’s possible to build a career path that is better for my mental health.”
Once I started to try and believe that perspective, I noticed that I’d get opportunities every day to build evidence for that more helpful outlook or to confirm my old belief that life wasn’t worth living and I’d never figure out a better work-life for myself. Once I recognized these opportunities as roadblocks in a video game, they felt much less overwhelming. I started to look at the choice at hand with curiosity.
I labeled the challenges as “crossroads.” At each crossroads, I could either choose the familiar, well-worn path or the untraveled one that’s covered in plants but has great potential to lead me in the right direction. Each time I chose the untraveled path, I noticed I’d get closer to the perspective I was trying to create. I knew I was at the “portal” to the next level when I felt I had faced enough crossroads to the point that I had changed my perspective–even if it was just a little bit.
In the example above, my crossroads were things like choosing between taking naps all day or researching careers that were better for my mental health. The untraveled path, to do research, took more effort and brain power, and I would encourage myself to do a minute at a time. Sixty seconds is more impactful than you’d think–over time, it helps build a habit due to neuroplasticity, which is the ability to create new neural pathways in your brain to change your thought patterns (1).
There is no “passing” nor “failing” at crossroads; they’re just a point in time to make a choice. I sometimes consciously chose the less helpful path because my nervous system was at capacity and I needed a break. I tried to remind myself that the simple awareness of the crossroads was the real goal.
2. I found examples that showed me that building a new life was possible.
To support me in my crossroads decisions, I started looking for examples of people who had pulled themselves out of suicidal thoughts and found a work-life that helped. Just like “let’s play” videos on YouTube or Twitch, I was watching other expert “players” that had the life perspective I wanted to reach.
I had to really dig for those stories. Not many people publicize their mental health triumphs. Most of my Instagram consisted of posts from people with mental health issues that they assumed were chronic — and they may be. I decided I wanted to get off the game “level” where I considered my symptoms chronic, even if they lasted a lifetime. I wanted to see them as triggers, like every human has.
I went through that process of posting cries for help on social media and attempting to find solace in the fact that I wasn’t alone. However, for my personal recovery, there was a quiet nudge inside me that prompted me to find stories of those who got out of the depths of daily suicidal thoughts and changed their lives.
An example: I read articles, found Reddit threads of people who chose less emotionally demanding jobs, and listened to podcasts about career pivots. If I noticed myself thinking, “It’s not possible for me, though,” I knew I needed to find people that had a similar background as me, such as someone with bipolar that had a manic episode at work and then decided to change.
Now that I have more insight into psychology, I realized that the reason these stories helped reduce my suicidal thoughts was that they prompted me to think, “Oh, it’s actually possible for someone like me to want to live.” From there, I kept finding evidence that supported that idea enough times that it became a belief.
3. I learned how to defeat the “boss” and find the portal to the next level.
As I was met with more and more crossroads relating to the level, I noticed they got increasingly more challenging, and they weren’t as difficult as before. I had been practicing making different choices at the previous crossroads and had found examples of people who had faced similar obstacles, so I knew what to expect.
Right before I truly started to believe something more neutral or positive about my life, I found myself facing a “boss” round. In video games, bosses are the final obstacle to overcome before completing the level and reaching the portal to the next one. Each time I noticed I was at a life-altering crossroads and chose the untraveled path, I knew I was close to the portal to the next level. It was just around the corner. I just had to make sure to navigate to the untraveled path.
In the example I mentioned earlier, the boss round was when I was finishing up my outpatient program for depression and had no idea how my work life would look. The boss crossroads was facing the uncertainty of whether I’d really change my perspective and circumstance.
I knew I was ready for the next level when I got enough energy to search for work and decided that freelance work would be better for my mental state. I also made more money and spent less time working. Because I had started to really believe the level theme (“It’s possible to build a career path that is better for my mental health”), I knew I had defeated the boss and found the portal to the next level. I then moved on to another perspective, while still practicing the one from the previous level. They all build on each other.
As I read more about neuroplasticity, I discovered the reason that crossroads became more intense: The primitive part of the human brain that resists uncertainty is more overwhelmed by the idea of something unpleasant happening than when experiencing something unpleasant happening in real time (2). Therefore, the more unfamiliar choices we make and thoughts we practice, the more our “reptilian brain,” or the primitive part of our brain, protests and produces unpleasant feelings.
After playing the game for a while, I was aware of the brain’s tendency and knew that additional emotional discomfort was a sign that I was going in the right direction. That awareness decreased the intensity of my feelings and gave me hope that I could build a new life and outlook.
I want to emphasize that this is not a game of winning and losing. Going to the next level is not “upleveling.” As many have said before, healing is not linear, so there is no upward climb. In my mind, life is about having a variety of experiences and feelings.
The difference between this game and video games is that you are the player, the character, and the programmer. It’s about time to get that high score–whatever that means to you.
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Note: I am not a mental health professional. This is not a substitute for professional care.
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