Disco Elysium Taught Me I Need Therapy

When art and life are uncomfortably aligned

When I first started playing Disco Elysium I made the kind of character I often do in RPGs. I poured points into intelligence and emotional skills and left out the physical. It’s nice to explore a game from the context of conversation rather than combat when you have the chance. It also reflects how I view myself. I have a body that lets me down at every turn so I’ve had to rely on my mind most of my life. I immediately died trying to reach a necktie due to my lack of physical fortifications. “This game is too real” I joked to myself. I had no idea.

I rerolled a character with a little more physique (but not much more). My lizard brain once again regaled me with the story of life, death, and narcotics before I snapped to consciousness. I got the tie, got dressed, and began my adventures as a beautiful disaster policeman.

As I played, as I’m sure most people do, I found myself leaning into certain aspects of my character. The choices for what you can say are just so beautiful and weird and many felt straight out of my own brain. I’d read the text of a conversation, say something outlandish to myself and then realise it was actually an option to choose. Often, the grip on reality was loose at best and I found myself trying to convince the world to see things my way, rather than the other way around. Needless to say, my inland empire was growing. It felt so familiar but it took me a while to work out why.

The choices for what you can say are just so beautiful and weird and many felt straight out of my own brain.

I started realising that many of the elements I was seeing were exactly my brand without the filter. When you grow up a bit weird you learn to tone it down. You’re punished constantly, and on the rare moments when you’re not, that same weirdness becomes a spectacle for others. You’re the artist, the idiosyncratic, rhombus peg that can’t even fit the square holes. Eventually, the delightful and weird thoughts that come to your brain get pushed down because they just aren’t worth creating said spectacle. It occurred to me I’ve burned down my own inland empire to survive.

Still, there is something refreshing in being able to indulge in a video game. I could think and say the weird things I’m always holding back, and usually the worst I get is a wry smile from my partner and nicest man in the world, Kim Kitsuragi. He’d put up with every inch of my bullshit and sometimes even join in, just a little. He was kind, even when I really fucked up, even when I said the stupidest thing, even when I was me. I would give anything to have had a Kim in my life while I was growing up. I’d give even more to even have one now.

It occurred to me I’ve burned down my own inland empire to survive.

For a while this was all fun and games. It seemed harmless to not only believe but also convince others that I teleported up the ladder instead of climbing, or that I could talk to corpses. If anything, it seemed helpful. It got us through and I got to feel like myself, with the addition of disco shoes. It wasn’t until I failed that I remembered my brand of not-so-sanity has barbs.

The first time was minor. I tried to inspect the hanging body for clues but I couldn’t hack it. The stench of rotting flesh was just too much and I vomited all over the floor. Kim told me it was ok, these things happen, nobody has to know. I pulled myself together and went in search of help. By the end of it I tried looking at the body five or six times (the last three had a greater than 90% chance of success and I still couldn’t do it). My vocal option was to break down and…I did. I took so much moral damage that I couldn’t even be a policeman anymore and my game ended. Kim told me it was ok; I knew it wasn’t. I reloaded my save.

Later, I tried to convince a random woman her husband was probably dead. Not for any reason than I felt I could and Kim wasn’t around to rein me in. I’d like to say I’m not usually this kind of mean in real life but the desperate inner dialog to see if I could shape her world to meet my own was very on brand. Several game days later I found a body. You can see where this is going. I would have done this. I’m a monster.

I resolved to be kinder. This is a lesson I’ve had to learn in real life too and it’s one I’m proud of. I met a girl out on the sea ice who was cold and I had the option to get her to wear a hat, I could even give her one of my own. I was ready, I was going to do this. I was going to save this girl from frostbite. She dismissed me. I really should have listened, but in that moment, I took her as someone who really needed care — I tried again. That I cared — and she didn’t — reminded me that I’ve been this girl at some point in my life. But she simply told me “Look man, fuck the hat.” In my desperation to help — to try again — I snapped. FUCK THE HAT? I’ll SHOW YOU HOW TO FUCK A HAT!

Kim, level headed as ever asked me what that was all about. I think he knew I didn’t have an answer; I never really have an answer. I’m just broken in all the wrong ways. Sometimes it’s harmless and even fun and other times it ends like this. I cried for a while at the shame of it all. It wasn’t because a character in a video game very loudly yelled at a girl about how he was going to have intercourse with a hat. It was because I would have done that on the wrong (or maybe the right) day. That was me and I don’t think that’s supposed to be.

It’s nothing new to relate to a character from a video game; I know everyone sees mirrors of themselves in every medium but there’s something harrowing about how personal Disco Elysium can be. I don’t think I’m meant to relate to this man like I do. This absolute walking disaster shouldn’t be such an accurate mirror of myself. We are both Fuckatoos. He needs therapy, serious therapy and if he does then I probably do too.

I don’t think I’m meant to relate to this man like I do.

This isn’t exactly news to me. As a kid I was in and out of therapists for various reasons but they never helped. If anything, they made things worse. I was prescribed the wrong meds and made to feel broken, wrong, other. It’s not surprising that as an adult I have a resistance to the idea.

It took a video game, showing me who I really am and who I can be to break through that. Highlighting the ups-and-downs to make me think harder about who I want to become. I don’t want to be the disaster man who snaps or the accidentally cruel trickster but I also don’t want to smother my weirdness in an effort to survive. I’ll be 30 this year and I’ve almost certainly needed some kind of therapy my whole life, probably some drugs too. It wasn’t until a video game showed me who I am and what I’m missing out on that I’ve seriously considered it. If I go to therapy, there is no doubt in my mind it’s because of Lt. Kim Kitsuragi and Disco Elysium.

For anyone reading this who is suffering from mental illness, please contact a local support group or your doctor. You are not alone, and there are people willing and able to help.