The last two weeks have been exhausting.
In the Wasteland we’ve been celebrating Fasnacht. For those unfamiliar with Fallout 76, Fasnacht is an hourly event where you help the robots of Helvetia complete their parade and, if you’re successful, you receive one of the collectible masks.
It sounds simple enough.
But for me, it becomes a bit all-consuming.
Part of that is the challenge. Part of it is the community. But a lot of it is something a little harder to define. The event reminds me of happier times—when gaming was purely about the joy of the moment and the people you shared it with.
So yes, I probably spent more time online than I should have.
And yes, by the end of two weeks of hourly events, I was exhausted.
Still… I don’t regret it.
Because sometimes the things that look like distractions from the outside are actually ways of reconnecting with parts of yourself that you thought you had lost.
Cryptids in Appalachia
Right after Fasnacht wrapped up, the new Fallout season update dropped. This one includes special guest cryptids.
One of them is Bigfoot.
That led to a fun conversation with a good friend of mine who lives in Tennessee. I told him I didn’t realize Bigfoot was ever a thing in West Virginia or Appalachia.
He corrected me pretty quickly.
Apparently in parts of Appalachia they don’t call him Bigfoot.
They call him the Wildman.
So I guess even after years of wandering the Wasteland, you still learn something new every day.
A Friend’s Perspective
Another conversation recently stuck with me even more.
I was talking with a close friend about some of the complicated feelings I’ve had around seeing people and maintaining friendships.
She said something very simple:
“I’m here. If you don’t want to see me, that’s a you thing.”
At first that sounds blunt. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.
For a while I’ve been a little wrapped around the axle about social interactions and whether I should be pushing myself harder to see people.
But the truth is, sometimes the healthiest thing you can do is remove the pressure from the equation entirely.
Friends are there.
The door is open.
Whether I walk through it is something I get to decide on my own terms.
Planting Something Real
As spring approaches, I’ve started seedlings for the two greenhouses I’m running right now.
Last summer I tried my hand at gardening with moderate success. This year I’m hoping to refine things a bit—learning from the mistakes I made and improving the process.
Gardening turns out to require a little more than casual dedication.
Which is exactly why I enjoy it.
While I have absolutely no intention of giving up gaming, it has been nice to step outside and work in the yard. There is something grounding about it—about touching the soil, adjusting the irrigation, checking on seedlings.
When I was working as a nurse, I always appreciated activities that used a completely different skill set than the one I used professionally.
Gardening is like that.
It’s physical, methodical, patient work.
And it comes with new learning opportunities around every corner.
Preparing for the Wasteland (Just in Case)
There’s also a slightly tongue-in-cheek connection between my gardening and my time in the Fallout Wasteland.
Because let’s be honest…
The Wasteland sometimes feels less like science fiction and more like a slightly exaggerated documentary about human nature.
Whether or not an apocalypse ever happens, there is something deeply satisfying about being a little more self-sufficient.
And frankly:
Homegrown vegetables are simply better than anything you buy at the store.
I’ve even been toying with the idea of getting a small group of chickens again.
I’m not completely sure I could manage them on my own yet, so that’s something I’m thinking about carefully before jumping in. Chickens are actually fairly self-sufficient once they reach laying age, as long as food and water are maintained.
But they still deserve proper care.
That decision deserves a little more thought.
Still… fresh eggs are hard to argue with.
March Memories
Late March and early April are always a reflective time for me.
I lost a couple of very close friends during that period over the years. Friends I served with in the Army. Friends who meant a great deal to me.
One of them died in Iraq in 2003.
He had already completed a tour overseas and returned home to the United States. Then he was tasked with escorting the remains of another fallen soldier back home.
During that mission he was killed in a mortar attack at the Baghdad airport.
He was my soldier.
And he was a good one.
A damn good one.
He was good at his job and an even better friend.
And I suppose it’s true what they say.
War never changes.
Grace
When I look back across the years, I see a life filled with a lot of experiences.
Some good.
Some very painful.
Some mistakes I wish I could take back.
The events of the past three years especially came with their share of hard lessons and moments where I know I wasn’t the best version of myself.
But if I’m being honest with myself…
I did the best I could with what I had at the time.
And that has to count for something.
A friend recently said something that stuck with me:
“I think you turned out to be a pretty good person.”
That might be the rare moment of grace in this entire story.
Because the truth is we’re all imperfect.
We all stumble.
We all make mistakes.
But if we keep learning, keep adjusting, keep growing—whether that means discovering Appalachian cryptids or figuring out how to grow better tomatoes—then maybe we’re doing life the right way after all.
My Two Constant Critics
My dog and my mom both recognize that I am not perfect.
They still love me anyway.
And honestly, that’s probably the best endorsement I’m going to get in this lifetime.