I’ve been playing video games since I was a child. My first console was the Sega Master System II back in 1995, when I was six years old. Then came the first PlayStation in 1999, the Xbox in 2003, and my first PC in 2006. That’s when gaming truly opened up for me especially after discovering online games.
Titles like League of Legends (2012) and Hearthstone (2014) consumed countless hours of my youth. To be fair, I met people through those games some of whom I still talk to in 2025. For that, I’m grateful.
But those years came with a cost.
In 2018, I bought a PS4 Pro. I had completely lost touch with consoles and didn’t even know “Pro” versions existed. All I wanted was to escape the toxic loop of online gaming. In 2022, I bought a PS5 and that’s when trophy hunting began. That’s also when something small but important started shifting.
In 2024, I realized something was wrong.
I wasn’t enjoying the moment when I sat down on the couch and picked up the controller.
At the start of 2025, I began asking myself why.
After a lot of reflection and experimentation here’s what I discovered.
The Hidden Cost of Online Gaming
From personal experience, online gaming especially titles like LoL and Hearthstone reshaped my relationship with games in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time.
Yes, I made friendships.
But I also missed some of the greatest single-player experiences of that era:
The Last of Us, Uncharted, God of War, Dark Souls, Mass Effect.
I wasn’t there to live them.
Online gaming trained me to play without presence.
For years, I played while talking in voice chats, listening to music, or having streams running in the background. I wasn’t inside the game I was operating it.
So when I returned to consoles in 2018, I felt uncomfortable. I struggled to focus on story-driven experiences. I craved background noise. And eventually, I returned to online gaming on and off until I finally stopped in 2022.
That habit made it impossible to truly enjoy narrative depth. I missed key emotional moments. Entire story arcs passed by me. Even when I had free time, I played in a mechanical, detached way.
I didn’t even realize how far I had drifted from what gaming actually meant to me.
Content Overconsumption & Social Media Fatigue
We live in an era where gaming content is everywhere.
Video essays. Reviews. Shorts. Reels. Reactions. Hot takes. “Things you MUST know.” “10 tips before you start.”
Everyone has something to say and not all of it adds value.
Creators rush to upload content about games before they’re even released. Streams, theories, frame-by-frame trailer breakdowns. The hype becomes unbearable.
By the time a game launches, you’ve already seen so much that the magic is gone.
That’s what happened to me with Elden Ring. I was excited but the endless coverage exhausted me. I didn’t even finish it. Not because of difficulty. But because overexposure made me bored before I truly began.
Then came Clair Obscur: Expedition 33.
This time, I avoided everything. No videos. No articles. No Twitter discourse. I watched one trailer and that was it.
When I played it, it felt pure.
No expectations. No spoilers. No meta. Just me and the game.
To be clear: I’m not saying “don’t watch content.” There are incredible creators out there who genuinely respect the medium. Support them.
The problem begins when we consume everything.
My advice?
Find one or two creators who truly inspire you. Stay there. Don’t follow everyone.
And most importantly: play the game first.
Then join the conversation.
Trophy Hunting: The Next Trap
When I got my PS5 in 2022, I entered the world of trophy hunting.
I even created a new account dedicated purely to platinum trophies.
Very quickly, I started avoiding games with discontinued online trophies. I chose what to play based on how easy the platinum was. I watched walkthroughs that ruined stories. I played to check tasks off a list.
And once again, I needed background noise to tolerate the grind.
What I thought would be a fun challenge turned gaming into obligation.
It became work.
And once again, I was playing without joy.
A Spark of Hope
Over time, I stopped enjoying games altogether.
Trophy hunting made them feel like chores.
Online gaming damaged my focus.
Social media drained the magic.
Then Clair Obscur happened.
I played differently this time.
No content. No spoilers. No distractions. I bought a good pair of headphones and dedicated two or three uninterrupted hours.
The game absorbed me.
I caught myself playing four or five hours straight fully present. I wasn’t chasing anything. I wasn’t checking trophies. I was just playing.
And enjoying it.
When I finished it, I chose to go for platinum because I wanted to not because I felt I had to.
And for the first time in years, I felt the spark again.
Michail Mouzakitis