Dave the Diver means a lot to me. I was fired two days before my birthday. For months leading up to that fateful Google Meets call, the writing had been on the wall. For me and for many others. I was struggling creatively, stretching myself thin with the amount of work I took on. I watched as others were punished for things they had no control over, and I was the most powerless I’d ever been despite being a supposed “leader.”
Nothing prepares you for something like that. Even if you see it coming. Just because it’s predictable doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck. I barely even remember what was said — I went into autopilot, thanked the company for taking a chance on me, and closed my laptop. My partner was getting ready for work, but she overheard enough to know. She came out to the living room, and for a solid minute, we just looked at each other. I wasn’t ashamed of how I left because I believe I ultimately upheld my principles. But as someone who battles demons named “Perfectionist” and “Workaholic,” I found myself suddenly without core parts of these traits that defined me.
That first week was the hardest. Despite the adoration I had for the team I left, having to answer “I heard what happened, and I’m sorry” emails and texts was the lowest I’d felt in a long time. I filed for unemployment the following day. Started searching for jobs. I put on a brave face and said the requisite, unbothered “Ah, it’s not so bad” responses when I was asked if I was okay.
‘Dave the diver’ and rebounding
But for that first week, I was broken. I didn’t cry — I wouldn’t give my former employer that satisfaction. I had no plan. No leads. For all I knew, I’d be unemployed for weeks, months, maybe even a whole year. Though I’ve danced with depression for most of my life, the anxiety and uncertainty became a dark cloud over every morning.
In that darkness, I mindlessly turned on my PlayStation 5 one day. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular, but the constant job-searching and gauntlet of rejections in my inbox became too much. I needed something. That’s when I found Dave the Diver.
Even though everything seemed to be burning around me, I found just enough willpower to relax and boot the game up. I met plucky, wholesome Dave. The dedicated and mysterious Bancho. Cobra’s self-serving self. I smiled as the characters came to life on the screen. Then, it was time to go on my first dive. Once Dave hit the water and I was in full control, everything changed.
I used the harpoon gun to snag my first fish: the Blue Tang. I caught another, and another. There was a baseball bat in a crate, and I smacked a hapless Blackspot Seabream with it. Added a few more nearby fish to my roster for good measure. Eventually, Dave’s lung capacity had almost bottomed out, so I had to return with what I proudly caught.
healing
Nightfall would arrive after my second time gathering fish and figuring out the game’s roguelike elements. (Pretty sure a jellyfish almost took me out, too.) It was time to learn how to help Bancho’s sushi bar flourish. That’s when I truly fell in love with the game. Setting up my menu for the night, learning to properly pour green tea for customers, letting the game teach me its ways before taking the training wheels off and exploring the depths, discovering new challenges with every expedition.
Dave the Diver was a piece of heaven in a living hell. Gaming and I have been through so much together, but few games found me when I needed them the most. This unapologetically silly, wildly creative gem pulled me in and brought me back from a really dark place. It reminded me that I was more than my “usefulness” to a job. I was better than the humiliation of being unceremoniously fired. I was doing what I could. And that was enough.
Reflecting
If there’s one thing Dave the Diver taught me, it’s that all you can do is your best. Sometimes, when you’re faced with the impossible, you gotta take a breath, accept your licks, and keep getting back up. If life didn’t have any challenges or pain points, we’d never grow. In a way, I’m grateful for the chance to just be honest with my circumstances.
To this day, I put on the Dave the Diver OST when I need to realign and bring myself back. There are many ways in which things can go horrendously wrong — despite your intentions. But at the end of the day, as long as you show up and try, it’s all you can ask of yourself before it’s time to embrace whatever comes next.
The post How ‘Dave the Diver’ Helped Me Through One of the Hardest Times of My Life appeared first on VICE.
The post How ‘Dave the Diver’ Helped Me Through One of the Hardest Times of My Life appeared first on VICE.
