So You're An Altoholic
Hello everyone, my name is Niall and I'm an “Altoholic”. And I reckon to guess that if you're here reading this, then you probably are too. However, if you're not (and your curiosity has simply gotten the better of you), then allow me to explain what an Altoholic is: in a nutshell, Altoholics are folks who cannot stick to just one damn character in a videogame! We want to experience everything a given videogame has to offer and experiment with absolutely every conceivable character/class combination.
Sounds harmless at face value, doesn't it? But it's almost an illness! No, really. As a sufferer, I'm calling it here.
Now, before I get too far ahead of myself, the term Altoholic originated from within the World of Warcraft community. It is a term used to label those players who frequently change their character builds. And within that Altoholic group, there are two sub-camps: those reacting to the game's latest nerfs and buffs, and then trying to undo (in their favour, of course) those recent gameplay balances — “min-maxers”, if you will; and then there are those that swap around their builds because they just cannot remain content with simply any of the decisions they've made — decisions during character creation and exploration. I sit firmly in this latter camp.
So, I've never really cared for online gaming. Riding the wave of constant developer updates that insist on swapping nerfs for buffs and vice versa the following month never appealed to me. I have, of course, dabbled with the odd MMO and Call of Duty lobby, though I've never taken any of it too seriously. I often just play along until I'm mercilessly outmatched by someone half my age, who has too much time on their hands. For me, it's easier to drop it and just move on. I've already had my fun by then.
However, when I'm given a well-polished single-player RPG, with intricate choices and seemingly endless possibilities, well, then I know I'm in for a rough, old time. Don't get me wrong, these are still my favourite games to play; I just know that making only one hero and then reaching the end of the game is an unrealistic expectation. Sooner or later, I'll scrap that plucky, little adventurer, and I'll return to the oh-so-familiar character creation screen. It's my own little hell.
I do eventually finish these games — I am some way into Act 3 of Baldur's Gate 3, finally! However, I have a need to try out everything (potentially several times each, just to be real positive) before I get annoyed with myself and muscle through to the game's end. Wait. I did just say that these games are my favourite to play, right? Well, that remains true, even as I write this. If I can fight off the incessant urge to hit “new game” for long enough, eventually I will progress to whatever conclusion awaits my character. But that takes some tremendous willpower on my part. After all, starting a fresh save is the easiest thing in gaming. However, on the flip side, having to mute the television because you're sick of the damn intro music or skipping early-stage cutscenes altogether because you have already committed them to memory (roughly 10 or so character build attempts ago) soon proves to be a truly tedious endeavour.
Helpfully, I do know why it is that I am like this though: perfectionism. I suppose this rings true for the other camp, too. Though their focus is driven by the competitive nature of multiplayer. Mine, on the other hand, is a need to create the character I had built in my mind. Something that simply is not practical for a variety of reasons. What a game has to offer — in the way of clothing, accessories, and tools available for my little hero to utilise — obviously, never quite lines up with what I had envisioned. And even though I am very aware that this is literally how all videogames work, I am still left a little disheartened by my discovery. Secondly, a deep-rooted need in me to efficiently use my time (in all things) often means I'm left dissatisfied because I made a “wrong” choice or missed an opportunity of some kind altogether. My adventure simply was not efficient enough!
My Altoholicism is nothing more than my perfectionism rearing its ugly head.
And, yes, I see you down there, ready to rant in the comments: “just load an earlier save, you idiot”. It would, indeed, make logical sense to do so. However, this is one of those occasions where all logic leaves me to go and wander in the snow. (And, unfortunately, it may be some time.) Not to mention that, rather stupidly, arriving at such progression blocks often just sours the opinion I hold regarding that playthrough. No; it's dead in the water, as far as I am concerned.
All of it is completely and utterly ridiculous, I know. But I also know that it isn't just me that allows their perfectionism to invade their otherwise pleasant hobbies. You're not alone, dear reader.
As someone who is basically Mr Spock — tackling the day-to-day from a position of logic, rather than emotion — my straightforward method to overcome such thoughts, when they do creep into my mind, is to remind myself just how illogical such expectations are. I have learned to do this pretty effectively recently, and it does indeed quell the despair and the urge to restart. However, for someone with a more delicate disposition than I, I can imagine that the paralysis caused by such a negative thought process is particularly unpleasant. I have even found it quite debilitating at times.
Unfortunately for you, I am no psychologist. Thus I will not make any suspect claims here regarding potential cures. Just know that what I have mentioned above does indeed work for me. Not just in gaming, mind you, but in all things. We perfectionists won't change, it's who we are, right or wrong; I think we should all just try to instil some perspective when that dreaded analysis paralysis does strike. Is it really worth starting from scratch because of one hiccup? Most certainly not. Are there really any “wrong” choices that spoil character progression? With some carefree chaos or some perspective, then arguably no. That’s the real trick: gain some perspective. It works well for me, and allows me to enjoy the videogame as it was intended, leaving any ego I had concerning my experience to dissipate.
Fellow Altoholics — perfectionists — this has been a letter to you! Be well. And remember that you are supposed to play the videogame, not the other way around.
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