After two weeks of Fasnacht in Fallout 76, exhaustion set in—but so did reflection. From cryptids and Appalachian folklore to gardening, grief, and learning to give yourself grace, this is a meditation on finding balance between the digital wasteland and the real world.
Three years into grief, I’m questioning whether “I love you” is always truth — or sometimes just fear of regret. In the wasteland and in life, maybe clarity matters more than repetition.
Costco isn’t just shopping—it’s sensory overload, entitlement, and PTSD triggers wrapped in bulk pricing. When the world gets loud, the wasteland and a reclaimed van offer a different kind of escape.
Sometimes I joke that Fallout is cheaper than therapy. That’s not entirely fair — therapy is doing its job — but Fallout does something different. It gives my brain a place to land. When the world feels loud, hostile, and unpredictable, the wasteland is oddly structured. There are rules. There are objectives. There is a …
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