How Melee Saved My Life - TW - Suicide Attempt

This is an essay I wrote years ago during my first semester of college, and I want to see how it resonated with you guys. It's my own personal account of how I got into the game. If I get enough positive feedback, I might be willing to post more of my writings about the game that has meant so much to me throughout the years.

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What Melee Means to Me.

“Dammit all!” My eighteen-year-old self was crying in my room as I pointed a shotgun towards the back of my mouth. I could taste the cold steel as my trembling fingers fumbled to click off the safety. Minutes earlier I had been calmly purchasing the rifle at a local gun store. Several hours had passed since my first girlfriend of over two years decided that things weren’t going to work themselves out between us. I stared down the end of the barrel for what seemed like an eternity. “Ok, just get it over with you big baby,” I thought to myself, my insides were churning as I clenched my eyes shut and pulled the trigger. Click. In total shock, I opened my eyes and pulled the gun out from my mouth to check and see as to why my head was still attached to my torso. I quickly discovered that I had bought an incorrect ammo type. “Are you kidding me, I can’t even kill myself correctly.” I scolded myself furiously as I flung the gun across my room and then sat in a corner sobbing in the fetal position.

Later that afternoon I managed to calm myself down to the point where I could sit at my computer and apathetically watch YouTube; going down the many rabbit holes that the website had to offer. That’s where I stumbled across a Super Smash Brothers: Melee combo video, a collection of competitive player's highlights in the game. I remembered playing Melee years ago, and while I had enjoyed the game, my personal experience was nothing like the footage that I was currently watching. It was so fast. The players in the montage had developed almost an entirely new way to play the game that pushed the limits of human reaction time. I watched the audience at large competitions get so ridiculously loud, cheering and chanting for players that they wanted to win. Winning competitors often had huge “popoffs” after they would win a tournament, sometimes standing on or even throwing their chairs out of excitement (even more for the audience to get hyped about). I quickly discovered that I too wanted a notion of how it felt to be in the spotlight.

I started watching video after video, everything from highlights to analysis videos of tournament sets of high-level players duking it out, but I wanted even more; I wanted to practice. I went to my closet and dug out my old, dusty Gamecube and controller. I popped the lid up and smiled; Melee was still in the disk tray. After a few hours of messing around in the game, I started searching for even more resources. I discovered that there was a competition coming to Asheville, which became a weekly event to be later known as “Smasheville”, a “weekly” that is still ongoing. Before I knew it, I had become obsessed with the lifestyle, culture, and travel associated with the “Smash” lifestyle.

Constantly studying, practicing, and competing in the game initially just helped me bury my depression, as I was just too distracted to focus on being sad all the time. Simultaneously, I was unintentionally provided an outlet to revise how I viewed my life as a whole. Even though my mindset changes were initially just a result of my wanting to improve in Melee, I ultimately started to bring myself out of depression and continued to have an ameliorated worldview. I started waking up on time, and I started going to the gym. I kept going to weeklies, and through the community, I made some incredible friends. The lethargic mood I always seemed to be in was increasingly waning; I wasn’t constantly reflecting on how unhappy I was because I was focusing on so much self-improvement. My hands hurt from playing so much; they’re even aching as I type this, but potential arthritis is a small price to pay for how happy I was and still am.

About three months ago I moved from the Asheville area to Charlotte to attend Belmont Abbey, and through the game I’ve managed to make friends with the players around the city, consistently going every week to hosting player’s houses for the evening. It’s undoubtedly the only group of friends that I feel a strong connection with here; without Melee I most likely never would have met any of them. Even more recently, a fellow student approached me and asked about a shirt that I was wearing that I bought years ago at a tournament, as it turns out he plays Melee too and is now attending some of the same festivals as I.

If it wasn’t for this ridiculously competitive children’s party game I doubt that I’d be around to type this essay for you. Nowadays I’m living a drastically more desirable quality of life; I’m still competing and I’m always looking for new opportunities to meet people through the game. If I had to choose the biggest takeaway from this whole life-changing experience it’s that I now know that I have the strength to truly push myself to reach for my goals and to not let my negative mindsets hold me back. It took five years, but I finally made myself into a person that I can be proud of, and I’m not angry at myself anymore as a result.

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TLDR: After a failed suicide attempt I found myself competing in the Melee community, simultaneously discovering a burning desire for self-improvement which ultimately got me out of depression and moving forwards in my life.

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EDIT: Thank you all for the kind words! You've been wonderfully receptive to this post. Each and every one of you reading this is an incredible human being. I have all of you to thank for giving me such a fantastic community, and in my small way, I want to give back to you guys by sharing my experiences <3. Melee is sick.