I’m always wary of games that try to personify mental illness or negative thoughts. The idea of putting a face or a name to this… other part of me, this darker part of me, instinctively makes me recoil. Not in disgust or hatred, but in deep-rooted fear. Society as a whole has been gradually improving when it comes to tolerance and acceptance of mental health conditions such as depression and anxiety, but we are still so far from truly understanding what it is like for each individual that suffers from them. Heck, I barely understand my own conditions and it’s been over a decade. Plus, considering some of the more toxic representations of mental health that use it as an excuse for cruel actions, I tend to walk into games that claim to be better with a bit of a chip on my shoulder.
When I was in primary school, I learnt a life lesson that I still carry with me to this day. Though in hindsight, it’s not always the best idea. When a feeling is uncomfortable or debilitating, such as nausea when you are unwell, to focus on it is to give it more control over you. I’ve carried this idea over to my daily battles with my mental health conditions, not allowing an anxiety attack or depression dip to consume me and ruin whatever I had going on at the time. However, there is a fine line to walk between not overly focusing on something and refusing to acknowledge it at all. Coping mechanisms and suppression do not go hand in hand as anyone who’s hit their breaking point will be well aware of. Exploring that balance is something that the game Celeste does well.
If you listened to my panel for EGX Digital back in 2020, you’d know that the game Celeste was thoroughly recommended by the panel members. Despite this, I only actually got around to playing the game for myself a few months ago after an extremely long day at work. Putting aside the several moments of overwhelming rage that I experienced whilst playing through the game (LOOKING AT YOU B SIDE), Celeste is a platformer with a tale to tell, driven around a central goal of reaching the summit of Celeste Mountain.
You play as Madeline, a young woman from Canada who suffers from anxiety and depression. For unknown reasons, she has travelled to Celeste Mountain with the goal of reaching the summit to prove to herself that she can. Given how insanely dangerous the mountain can be to those not prepared for it, her family and those she encounters on her way are understandably concerned about her wellbeing. Considering the very first bridge collapses and she’s only saved by a dash ability taught to her by a random bird perched nearby, the stakes are pretty high. Shortly after meeting Theo (a lovely guy who is an influencer and takes terrible selfies of Madeline), you come across a mysterious mirror in the ruins that summons a “evil” clone of Madeline, called Part Of Me (or Badeline to the community).
To Madeline, this clone seems to be the embodiment of everything wrong with her – her selfishness, her anger, her self-loathing. If I’m honest, that’s how I viewed my “dark side” to begin with. When you have such a dark cloud hanging over your every action, you’re desperate to separate it from you, to treat it as an entity that has no ties to you. Madeline initially believes that she would be better off without her and seeks for a way to destroy Part Of You entirely. It’s a sentiment that I think anyone with a condition like anxiety or depression has pondered in their lifetime. Yet, like Madeline, we have to realise that this darkness, this negativity, is as much a part of us as the fingers on our hands are.
More than anything, Celeste is a powerful metaphor for self-discovery. Regardless of whether you’re coming to terms with a loss, facing up to your inner demons or gaining the courage to come out to those you love, Celeste emphasizes the imperfect nature of humanity. We stumble, we make mistakes, we are stubborn and desperate for a future that is always slightly out of reach. Yet, we get back up. Sure, Madeline falls down the mountain, further than she had ever fallen before but she gets back up. Even in the darkest of pits, there is always a distant light to climb towards. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Considering how many times I died in Celeste (cough, 3298), this determination can take us far. That’s the thing about mountains, when you’re stood at the bottom, they seem so insurmountable, too large a challenge for you to even hope to complete. Yet with each checkpoint and each rung of the ladder than you step onto, you get that bit closer.
As much as I detest my brain with it’s lack of serotonin and tendency to catastrophize literally everything (for example, the other day when I left the house to go to work, my brain went “did you leave the gas on, are your cats in danger because of it”. I have no gas line connected to my flat. WHAT EVEN BRAIN.), I have to admit that it has made me a better person. I work harder, study more and empathize better with those around me, desperate to put some of that light into the world that I struggle to find on my darkest days. I wouldn’t be CaitlinRC, creator of MindGames / Dice and Suffering, community member and proud non-binary asexual without the conditions and life events that have brought me to this point. Sure, there was a lot I would do differently if I’d had the benefit of hindsight but at this point in time, I’m ok. Sometimes, ok is the best you can hope for.
Sometimes a mountain doesn’t have a summit. Sometimes, you’ll be climbing for the rest of your life. I know that I will be living with my depression and anxiety for the rest of my life. Sure, therapy and medication have helped make the day-to-day existence more bearable and the PTS dreams have lessened over time, but there’s no “cure” for this. We need to accept that’s ok, that it’s fine to not have a cure, a quick fix for everything. Sure, I fell down the mountain a good way over the last few months. However, as long as I shake myself off, brush myself down and keep climbing, then eventually I’ll reach a point that I’m content with. After all, those who climb Everest don’t all strive to reach the summit. Some are happy with reaching the base camp.
Anyways, that’s all I have for you this week. It’s been a while since I’ve written one of these so I’m pacing myself to avoid smashing face first into the writer’s block brick wall that I’ve been smushed against for all these months. Be sure to check out the podcast series, launched as Dice and Suffering – where my D&D campaign and the brand new Blades In The Dark series is being published.
You’re doing your best, that’s all that matters.
CaitlinRC