Depression and Elden Ring - A marriage of haunted hope.

 

From Software’s 2022 juggernaut, Elden Ring, needs no introduction. It has taken the gaming world by storm, smashing all sales records for previous FromSoft titles and placed itself right at the forefront of the industry, poised to win a plethora of awards. Its mix of soulsborne action and open-world gameplay has seen a cult-classic genre turned into a mainstream phenomenon.  From its blisteringly punishing combat, it’s sublime and haunting open world, to its rich and rewarding gameplay cycle, Elden Ring is surely one of the games of the decade.

However, that’s not what I’m here to talk about today. I’m here to talk about the very special impact Elden Ring had on me. I have severe mental health issues, ranging from anxiety disorders to clinical depression. As anything in life, the impact these things have on my life tend to ebb and flow. However, 2022 saw a major episode, an episode in my life that I’m still trying to recover from even now. There has been little to write home about in these past few months.

Then I played Elden Ring.

The world of Elden Ring is somewhat familiar to veteran Dark Souls players. It is bleak, it is uncompromising and it portrays a world, beautiful but dangerous, alive with life but infested with death. It is post-apocalyptic: a world stuck in an infinite cycle where the world is broken, physically and metaphysically. The machine of Death is not functioning properly. Soldiers walk old battlefields, forever doomed to fight ancient adversaries. A literal rot has spread throughout the land, eating the world and its inhabitants from the inside out. It is a world of terror, sadness and despair. It is almost a metaphor for being so depressed, that even simply seeing some sunlight can terrify you. It understands you. It sees you.

My life felt like it was crumbling faster than I could catch the rubble. It was at this point Elden Ring came into my life. I saw myself in the world, as the poor, long suffering ‘Tarnished’, a warrior who can see “grace”, a holy force which guides them towards the titular Elden Ring, an immaculate force of order which can repair the broken world. Along the way, you will die. A lot. You will fail. A lot. However, the doesn’t present death as a mere punishment for failure, but as a learning experience. Each death is a chance to grow, to develop and when that moment of victory happens, it is even more rewarding than if you’d fought and killed the boss in one attempt. The bosses are hard, btut even trying to survive the rest of the enemies in the game will take all of your wits, skill and intuition. This is not something that messes around. There is no easy mode. Elden Ring’s struggle for victory, its constant struggle for survival, is an apt metaphor for life and even more so for a depressed brain.

More than just the gameplay, the hauntingly beautiful tone of the game helps to also achieve a bizarre, yet not unwelcome, form of tranquillity. Every NPC feels lost. They don’t really know what to do, or what their purpose is and across the course of the game you will bump into them fairly often. Some will develop, find their cause and become somewhat successful. Some will die. Some will fail. Some more will die and some will betray you. That’s the presiding influence of George R.R Martin, one of the major creative forces behind Elden Ring. It has that Game of Thrones knack to keep you guessing, to surprise you and to hurt you. The world, just like real life, is not fair. There is no real justice, or karma. There is no plot armour here. They can, and *will* die, depending on your choices, or sometimes despite all your actions to protect them, you are simply powerless to stop it. Powerless to protect anyone. The only person you can really rescue, is yourself. As someone who lives and dies by his ability to want to care and protect the people he lives to a fault, it was a valuable lesson. You can't help everyone.

Previous FromSoft games were known for their epic and bombastic orchestral soundtracks, but in my lowest moments, I found great comfort in the sombre compositions this time. The sad, but hopeful Roundtable Hold piece. A mellow and pensive track which fits your headquarters, falling apart, old, decrepit and dying. The majestic and haunting Leyndell music too, stirs inside of me. The city, once grandiose and resplendent lies dormant, sick, and in its death throes. The marriage of the musical score, the outrageously gorgeous landscape, artistic design and gameplay loop create a sort of “pocket plane” for a depressed individual. The Lands Between could easily be my own mind. So much beauty, but so much pain. Broken, shattered, but there lies hope that things could be better. Things could be fixed. You have to battle through, and you will fail. You will fail a lot. People will help you, people will pretend to help you, and people will want to hurt you. However, you fight hard enough, be willing to summon a friend along the way to help you and you persevere, you will beat Elden Ring. You will beat your demons inside your own head. The journey is the same, even if the goals are very different.

Elden Ring was a life-changing experience for me. I will always regard this game as a piece of artistic genius for its merits as interactive entertainment alone and it easily ranks in my list of favourite games. But it spoke to me on a very personal and existential level. Part of me, went through the Lands Between alongside my Tarnished. Broken, depressed, hopeless. Part of me came out, differently. With some perspective, some appreciation for what matters, who matters, and what is worth living for. I will not say Elden Ring has saved my life, but it has certainly helped to make me want to save it. For myself.