Addiction+in+Games+-+World+of+Warcraft+-+Gadgetpants

Hello my name is Gadgetpants and I am a World of Warcraft addict. In the same way that other's deal with substances, once you pass the threshold of your off-world hearth, you're in Azeroth for life. I've been to the brink of The Ether and I can tell you now, it's a dark and twisted (though somewhat violet colored) place.

Of course it began with peer pressure. All my friends were doing it. They had every class except paladin in their group so there was a place for me. There was a //need// for me. Or so I thought. By the time I realized that most of my time would be spent killing hogs for meager experience points and pocket change I was already hooked. Each day the level bar on my screen would move that much closer to its next mark. I could watch my progress as I advanced, slow but sure and gratifying.

I had my favorite bed in a local inn where I would retire after six hours of honing my skill at arms on the hogs. The innkeeper, a woman of homely qualities but a sprightly demeanor always remembered me by name and offered me vitals and brew. Though my quests against the hogs might have kept me away for days at a time, I always felt welcome there at the Goldshire Inn.

...The world of addiction is tricky that way... little did my naive self realize the depravity I was entering when I reached Stormwind City. I was naive, a youngster of seven levels when I set my new hearth in the Trade District. On my first self-guided tour some [|NPC] offered to “gladly trade you my Thursday for a burger today”...that's fucked up man... There were rats running the streets; and crushing them down with my Hard Iron Mace only brought back nostalgic memories of the Westland hogs... But I grew to love the city and so became further entrapped. Less than sixty hours played and I already had assimilated into the shit-schemes we were all part of.

It was the money. The money was just too damn good; and I'm talking the yellow glowing chimes that hang heavy in your pockets. I'd quickly learned the trends of the Auction House and before you knew it, I was cornering the market on wool with turnarounds at double the value - then tripple! I moved on to armor, weapons, nether dust...for the alchemy junkies... I had sorry suckers, back from fighting the Undead Invasion up in the Plaguelands, paying out their ears just get a stack of mana pots.

I outfitted myself with some real fine equipment and had plenty left over to throw to the Night Elf strippers on the corners. I basically spent levels 20-70 blotto on Dwarvan mead once I moved shop to Ironforge. My buddies and I would join raiding parties, sacking horde strongholds here and there and even made a little bit of a name for ourselves. Good times being young...

So it was hard clicking “end subscription.” Especially hard since I'd just spent 5k gold on a new sport-red epic flying mount. I could bang out 5-10 full daily quests in just a couple hours and roll bank. But you start to wonder if it's worth it when your grades start to slip and your girlfriend dumps you... your girlfriend [|IRL] that is... not some saucy Blood Elf who doesn't even speak Common and will just leave you ganked even after you helped her survive an attack of Fel-Orcs... anyway...

I really just overdid it and had to go cold turkey on the beast. That was around the beginning of sophomore year. I've had a couple relapses since then, buying a month subscription...exploring new areas...visiting the hogs...

But come July I'll have been be clean for two years! The hardest part is when they (Blizzard - that company of handsome bastards) release a new expansion. You wonder what you're missing, if the ol' boys are still together or did they drop off too... I guess after a while you just stop caring.

I'm too far behind on the game now. To get back in and catch up on the new lore, the armor setups the arena roster and brackets...it's all too much work. I'm not interested. World of Warcraft has moved on without me and so I can move on as well. Before logging off I had achieved wealth, mobility and adventure; living the dream, pulled up by my own guile. Last I recall I was in the southern badlands chasing stone elementals. I was on a cliff overlooking the plains at night with a campfire and my warg pup for company. As my mother likes to say, "it seemed like a good stopping place."