Why “Try Harder” is the Wrong Tool for Some Problems

This isn’t about games, and it isn’t going to tell you to just think positive. It’s about the problems that keep beating you, and being honest about which ones you can change and which ones you can’t. The games are only a starting point.

In games there is a particular kind of enemy that works differently from all the others. The ordinary ones you can overpower. You get stronger, you hit harder, you win. But then you reach the kind of boss that cannot be overpowered, the one that defeats you again and again no matter how strong you are, because the answer was never strength. The answer is pattern. The enemy does specific things in a specific order, and the way past it is to stop trying to muscle through and start learning the rhythm, until eventually you are not overpowering it at all. You are responding to it, because you finally know what is coming.

That is a real and useful lesson for a certain kind of problem in life, the kind where force is the wrong tool and understanding is the right one. But the metaphor has a trap built into it, and if you are chronically ill the trap is aimed directly at you, so I want to disarm it before I go any further.

Games are fair. Every boss is beatable by design, the pattern is always learnable, the tell is always there, and effort spent studying reliably converts into victory, because someone built it that way on purpose. Real life is sometimes like that. Chronic illness, very often, is not. It does not come with a fair, learnable moveset. Sometimes there is no tell before a crash. Sometimes you track everything, rest at the first sign, do everything right, and your body flares anyway for reasons no one, including your doctors, can fully explain. A flare is not a puzzle you keep failing to solve, and a crash is not a verdict on how well you studied. That has to be said plainly, because the whole point of this is that some fights are not fair, and pretending they are is its own kind of cruelty.

So there are really two different enemies here, and the trouble starts when we treat them as one.

There are problems that genuinely yield to pattern over force. A recurring conflict that flares the same way every time. A reaction in yourself that keeps producing the same painful result. These often do have a readable rhythm, and getting curious instead of just frustrated, asking what keeps happening right before this goes wrong, can change them. If you have a problem like that, the shift from pushing to studying is real medicine, and it is yours.

And then there is the body, which is a different kind of enemy. Some of what an illness does is patterned, and some of it simply is not, and no amount of attention makes the unpatterned part fair. This is the honest ground, and it is less tidy than the version that promises you can win if you study hard enough, and it is the only ground worth standing on.

So here is what attention can actually offer a chronically ill person, without the false promise attached. It is not a way to defeat the illness, and it is usually not a reliable way to prevent crashes. What it can sometimes do is smaller and more honest. It can occasionally help you notice a thing or two that tends to come before a bad stretch, not always, not for everyone, but sometimes, and even a loose, unreliable sense of that can hand back a sliver of agency in something that otherwise feels purely random. And it is worth saying what a pattern might even look like, because being told to find your patterns is useless if no one says what one is. It might be that several very full days in a row tend to be followed by a harder one. It might be that a particular kind of stress settles in your body before it shows up as symptoms. It might be a small specific warning the day before. Or it might be nothing at all, the crash arriving with no notice, and that finding matters as much as any other, because knowing there is no warning frees you from the exhausting belief that you should have seen it coming.

There is a harder truth folded into this too. Even when you find a pattern, it may not be one you can act on. You might learn that full days lead to crashes and still have no choice but to live full days, because rent does not care about your nervous system and the people who depend on you do not pause for pacing. Knowing the pattern is not the same as being free to use it, and if you are in a life where you cannot act on what you learn, that is not your failure. That is a world built for bodies that are not yours. In a game you can always choose to play it safe. In a constrained real life you very often cannot, and the metaphor goes quiet exactly there, which is precisely where the honesty has to take over.

I am not a doctor, and what your body does is yours to observe and yours to bring to the people qualified to help you understand it. A record of your own experience, if you keep one, is often the most useful thing you can hand a provider, not because it will reveal a cure but because it gives them something real to work from. But none of that is owed. You are allowed to be too tired to track anything. You are allowed to simply be sick, and furious that you are sick, without turning it into one more project you are somehow also failing.

So the reframe is this, and it asks nothing false of you. The thing that keeps defeating you is not proof that you are weak, and it is not always proof that you are missing a pattern either. Sometimes it is proof that you are fighting something genuinely unfair, with a body that did not come with a learnable moveset, and the repeated defeat is no verdict on your effort or your worth. Use the boss lesson where it fits, on the problems that actually yield to understanding over force. With the illness itself, take whatever small agency attention can sometimes return, leave the rest, and refuse the lie that you would be winning if you had only studied harder. Some of these fights are not fair. Saying so is not giving up. It is the most solid ground there is, far more solid than a comfort that was never true.

Join and get the 30 grounding cards free and a 10% shop code.

Sent about once a month. Unsubscribe anytime. Your 30 grounding cards and 10% shop code arrive digitally in the welcome email. Discounts do not stack with other Emberosis member discounts.

From the Emberosis Armory

Products you might like based on this post:

Join Letters Between Battles newsletter for 10% off your next Emberosis order.


Leave a Reply