The objective was simple: obtain the Boulder Shroom, an item that turns Mario into a boulder, and roll along the narrow lanes to the gold-coloured Star. It sounded easy enough, but was it really? I was notorious for bad judgement when it came to depth perception, thanks to my Autism, and my reflexes suffered because of my tics. Factor in that this required exact timing, and it’d be a real test of character. Still, a game was a game.
With a deep breath and my attention focused on the screen, I gripped my Wiimote and Nunchuk, the plastic, remote-like controller and joystick attachment, and began.
It started off well. I grabbed the power-up, flicked my wrist and knocked down the platform to begin the trek. I then blitzed down the ramp. Everything was going fine…until I veered too sharply to one side and fell to the abyss. Mario’s scream, coupled with the infamous music cue, informed me that I’d died.
Okay, maybe I panicked and turned early. I wouldn’t make that mistake again though, right?
Attempt #2 put that to the test. As I grabbed the power-up once again, I felt my body tensing up. My focus narrowed, my brain telling me to get it right. I was concentrating so heavily on not missing the first turn that I forgot to jump over the upcoming chasm. Mario screamed yet again as he plummeted to his doom.
I groaned, having now wasted two attempts at this challenge.
Perhaps attempt #3 would do the trick? After all, events often happen in threes, with the final one breaking the curse. As I started yet again, I tried avoiding my previous mistakes. I even snagged the extra life as I jumped over an early gap. If I kept this up, I might win? Unfortunately, I swallowed those words as I failed to make the final jump to the goal, causing me, yet again, to plummet.
I began screaming internally. I’d almost made it! What happened? With my anxiety flaring up and my tics kicking in, I’d underestimated how easy this was. Concentrating would now be tedious with my tics acting up. What’s worse, I was sweating from nerves, which was making me itchy. But if I timed my tics and scratches properly, I could make it out in one shot.
Easier said than done! As anyone Tourette’s Syndrome will tell you, fighting tics makes them worse. I couldn’t suppress them, I had to compromise with them. That not only meant not ignoring them, but making sure to release them so they wouldn’t throw me off. And it was hard, as my frequent plummets to the abyss would remind me. The constant failures even made my tics, sweating and itches worse.
Come on, I said after a while, remember mindfulness. Don’t fight the anxiety, work with it. I tried doing that, but it wasn’t helping. I’d become so engrossed in the moment that stopping to breathe was hampering everything. Plus, my perception was off, and I was making mistakes more and more frequently. Even ones I hadn’t made prior, which was irritating me. Why was this game so punishing?
Before long, I’d missed enough jumps and turns to get a Game Over. So I started the objective from scratch, returning to where I’d had trouble. The game was now giving me the option of letting it help me, that silhouetted shadow of Rosalina standing there. It knew I sucked, and it wanted me to throw in the towel. But I wouldn’t let it, I’d persevere until I…I…I…
Not now, I’m trying to concentrate.
Great, I had urine building in my bladder. I have a strict no-bathroom policy during tasks, so I decided to suck it up and hope I didn’t wet myself. Besides, my failures were staring me right in the face. Life hated me right now.
Attempt #12. I’d missed the sharp turns at the end at least 4 times by now, 2 of them back-to-back.
Attempt #15. I forgot to jump before the extra life.
Attempt #20. My tics were at full-force, my itching at maximum. I felt my bladder filling up. And what’s worse, now I had an urge to crap too.
Attempt #24. I’d gotten my second Game Over because of a sneeze. I glanced at the clock on my TV’s digital box and realized I’d been at this for over an hour. It was almost dinner, and my stomach was growling. Lovely.
Attempt #25 was going to be the one. I’d beat this once and for all. I’d done everything right, and I was nearing the end…only to hear my mom’s reminder from upstairs that dinner was in 10 minutes. In that split-second where I responded, I lost focus and plummeted yet again. Dammit!
It took 5 more attempts to regain what I’d lost. This was it for real. I’d timed my jumps. I knew when to turn, when not to veer and when to stay the course. I even made it past the final jump and into the pen where the gold Star was waiting. All I needed was to jump up and-
-The dreaded notice that my Wiimote had run out of power popped up. And I didn’t have any AA batteries on hand. 30 tries, 29 failures, and 2 Game Overs, and for what? A dead Wiimote?
This is why I don’t drive a car.
In the end, all my persistence was for naught. The game was taunting me, and in the end it bested me. I’d return eventually, but for now I had to dart to the bathroom and eat dinner. That, and buy new batteries.
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