Bringing A Fishing Pole To A Sword Fight
For me, one of the major ways OCD has always manifested itself is perfectionism. Everything has to be done in the right way, and if I’m too far away from what I consider the right way, I start to feel anxious. This feeling tends to compound itself in group settings, especially since I’ve felt the need to make friends by impressing people since I was a child and “normal” friend-making techniques didn’t exactly work.
So, I was all the more stressed out when, this week, I had to deal with a situation where I made a mistake in front of a group of new friends who I was definitely trying to impress.
During a “raid” in Lord of the Rings Online, one of my favorite video games for the last decade, players work together as a group to do an objective (usually a fantasy-style fight). In this particular raid, I was in a group of six people working to battle a dragon and reclaim its hoard.
It’s a tough battle, and as the newest person in this well-established group, I really wanted to prove myself. I knew that most - if not all - of the other people in the raid had been playing even longer than me and several played more competitively. I wanted to prove that I was worthy of having a spot in the group - after all, they were letting me in when they could probably find players with a lot more experience in raids who would be a better asset to the group.
In other words, my old childhood mindset of “they could have done better - but I have to prove them wrong” came in, and I set out to be the best raid participant they could ever ask for.
The beginning portion of the raid went smoothly, but when we were preparing to fight the dragon, I decided to take a look at my weapons once again, to make sure everything was okay. It’s not something I needed to do - in fact, it’s more like how I check that I have my keys at least twice before I leave my apartment most days. And yet, I did it anyway.
It took until the fight started to realize that when I was checking my sword, I had accidentally clicked on a fishing rod in my character’s inventory, which made my character pick that up instead of her sword. And, thanks to the way this game works, I would be unable to change the “weapon” I had equipped for the duration of the fight.
I was immediately mortified. My first raid with these new people who had welcomed me even though I was definitely not on their level was going to be a disaster - and all because of my need to check once again that I had equipped the correct sword.
As soon as the fight began, I spluttered to the group in our voice chat that I had messed up and that the group would essentially be doing the raid with five people instead of six. I apologized, did my best to explain what had happened, and fully expected to be kicked out of this new group where I didn’t even know the people all that well.
But instead of the hatred I expected, all I received was uproarious laughter. Not at me - at the circumstance of the game and the way it wouldn’t let me change the fishing rod for a sword! The whole conversation turned jovial and we all got a great laugh as I cheered from the sidelines, waving my fishing rod, watching as the five people in the group who were far better equipped than me brought down the dragon.
It took longer to complete the raid than if I hadn’t been holding a fishing rod the entire time, but it wasn’t that big of a difference. Everyone was still able to work together and the more serious group members enjoyed the challenge of bringing down the dragon with fewer people. And, at the end of the night, the group leader explained that it was their tradition to take a screenshot of the raid group with the prize - and they wanted me to stand in front and wave the fishing rod.
What started out as a mistake turned into people telling me that I made their night by bringing humor into a usually serious situation. They told me that I was welcome in any raids they do, and while it might be more helpful to bring a sword in the future, it was hilarious that I wielded a fighting rod against a dragon in my first raid with the group.
As the anxiety of making people hate me faded away, I thought back to how I joined this group, not so long ago. The reason I felt so comfortable joining was that the leader welcomed me when I was having trouble in a different raid - even going so far as to send me a message of encouragement when I was stressing about doing everything right.
In the end, no one actually cared about the fact that I brought a fishing rod to a sword fight - and no amount of preparation or worry could have taken away the silly mistake I made. It’s now turned into a joke within the group, the first “inside joke” I’ve been part of - and it makes me feel welcomed in a situation where my anxiety could have led to a far worse outcome.
Ellie, a writer in the Chicago area, was diagnosed with OCD at age 3. She hopes to educate others about her condition and end the stigma against mental illness.