“Er, did that doll just blink?” my housemate asked me as I cautiously shrunk back in anticipation. It was hard to tell which doll she was referring to, considering that they littered the decrepit corridor I was edging myself down, and to be honest I didn’t fancy going back to check. No, we weren’t trying out the newest haunted house attraction at the local funfair – I was playing Neverending Nightmares, a horror game intended to replicate the feelings of anxiety, terror and mistrust that the lead designer Matt Gilgenbach suffered when he struggled with OCD and depression.

My housemate, seeing my terror and hearing that my voice was three octaves higher than usual, decided to keep me company just as I was mentally reminding myself that it was broad daylight and that I had a replica of Sting on my bookshelf in case anything escaped from the screen. Within the game I had been walking around my house, searching for the colour among the monochrome palette, the presence of which indicated I could interact with some objects. Doors could be opened, paintings looked at, wreaths lifted from graves. I had ‘woken up’ from my nightmare countless times already, triggered by being faced by my sister dead in the attic, or seeing her grave, or pulling a vein out of my arm. The creator described these visions as ‘intrusive thoughts’, visions your mind conjures up ‘for the sole purpose of upsetting you’ Gilgenbach explained in a Gamespot interview.

I woke up again after the floor crumbled beneath my feet and I fell into darkness. My heart raced. I began to mistrust my own eyes – did that wallpaper look like that before? Didn’t that use to be a painting of something else? It was then that I realised what it must be like to live with these uncertainties, a shadow of what OCD and depression must feel like, every day. You walk with slow and heavy steps, and running wasn’t much better – my character began to gasp for breath after a few strides, and had to stop completely eventually. Gilgenbach explained this was meant to reflect his own asthma and I certainly felt frustrated and angry at myself for not being able to get away quick enough from the monsters that began to walk the halls with me, but also a desire to give in and allow them to destroy me so I could put off playing the game for a short while. The graphics resemble freehand drawing, always in black and white, simple but effective with an overlay of dashes that mimic darkness, meaning that even in the dark you can see yourself eerily walking behind the shadows. Neverending Nightmares is a valuable insight into mental illness and serves to demonstrate that games are as good as books and film for exploring human conditions, if not better due to the degree of interaction you have with the issues. My talk of monsters and blinking dolls might make it sound typical but it is far from it, and I for one am eager (and absolutely terrified) to play its sequel, Devastating Dreams.

Zoe Delahunty-Light

Featured image from GameSpot.