3 Things Skyrim Taught Me About Myself

3 Things Skyrim Taught Me About Myself


The games a person plays can tell you a lot about the type of person they are. If you play Bejeweled, you’re probably suffering from some variant of OCD that causes you to match things. If you’re a fan of Grand Theft Auto, you’re most likely an undiagnosed sociopath. That being said, I learnt a lot about myself as a person having played through Bethesda’s Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. And I swear to Talos, I learnt a lot.

#3. I Suck At Being Bad

It’s kinda easy to not be evil in the real world, due to permanent repercussions brought on by life. But in a game world, you’re free to do what you wish and shape the world to your liking. As the immensely powerful protagonist of Skyrim, I had the capacity to rule the world with an iron fist and yet, I felt true despair from accidentally stealing a roll of cheese.

“Guards!! Seize this cheese-stealing god!!”

Given the powers of a god, I was faced with the moral dilemma of still obeying the law. Being near impossible to be defeated, I continued to buy groceries with my hard earned gold and even NOT murder annoying characters because I felt pretty terrible with that bounty on my head. That being said, there’s no pretending that I didn’t try, but I’d reload my save file after I sated my murderous rage because screw that bounty. I’m a good citizen.

#2. I Can’t Let Things Go

Books. Gold. Items. I had hundreds. Thousands even. I spent most of my time trying to figure out what I needed the least so that I wouldn’t have too much to carry. And like a grown man living in his parents basement suffering from obesity, I wondered how on earth did I get this way.

“And I damn well had food too. Can’t be invincible on an empty stomach.”

What started off as just a little hobby, turned into a full fledged obsession with my character opting to trudge halfway across the map completely encumbered because I just can’t drop this book. Unhealthy? Maybe. But it doesn’t matter. I got my books. I read them already? Doesn’t matter. I have them. People are hitting me with axes and shooting arrows into my back? LET ME CARRY MY GODDAMN BOOKS. I may have a problem.

#1. I Get Far Too Attached

So midway through a difficult mission, my companion died. I don’t know what happened; it was all a blur. It was a bloodbath in there. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran. I escaped and waited for someone who never came. After a couple days of sheer depression, it then registered just how attached I had become.

“In loving memory, R.I.P.”

I couldn’t fathom life without her. My adventure had come to an end. I decided to quit being Savior of the Universe and start a nice life as a merchant in a city. A city where I promptly met a woman, married her and restarted my life of righteous mass murder. Such is the life of an adventurer!