Exposure therapy.

I was extremely stubborn and a lifelong gamer. I played DooM basically before I could read, back in 1994. Playing video games is ingrained in my DNA -- you know how some people are "born to do a thing", like the child chess prodigy who spends their entire life doing nothing but playing Chess and moves on to become a global Chessmaster?

That was me with gaming. After a good 20-30 years of walking through a panalopy of digital worlds, "saving the planet" countless times, shooting possibly over one hundred million enemies and other players online.

I found myself like you, wearing a brick on my head, unable to move. I couldn't even turn around. Touching my right control stick sent me REELING, the room was spinning, it was that bad.

But I sat there, determined, like someone being told me that I'd never walk again.

I said: "No. This is the ONE THING, I am good at -- my one place, where I truly exist."

I launched VRChat - and booted up with ALL of the safety features enabled.

1. Teleporting
2. Vignetting
3. Snap Turning
4. Delayed and reduced locomotion

I was so sick, I could only manage, 15-20 minutes a day. I'd walk a little, turn around, sit down and feel like I'd gag -- I was surrounded by friends and I was embarrassed, it felt like I was doing physical therapy.

My friends were incredibly supportive and they did the digital equivalent of encouraging me - distracting me from my physical discomfort, taking me to mini golf -- I walked a bit by bit, step by step, taking breaks and hunching against digital walls.

They soon began to believe like me, that I'd not hawk it -- but as I sat on that digital cobblestone, an incredible sensation occured.

"Karo, I yelled out-- the stones -- they're cold." He looked at me with alarm. "What do you mean, they're cold?" He asked.

"I can feel them, Karo. I can feel the coldness and texture of the stones, through my plastic controllers" I said, glowing and gliding my digital hands across the non-existent object.

I recognized immediately that my brain was "purchasing" the experience, the reality of the simulation and that is why I was experiencing motion sickness. The asymmetries between not moving in the real physical world, and the reality of "moving" in the digital. In nature, that meant you had consumed poisonous mushrooms and needed to throw up to get them out -- if the room was moving while you were still.

With newfound determination, I looked at my friends, knowing how violently ill it would make me, and I said:

"Boot up the fucking fighter jet sim." "We are going dogfighting."

I strapped myself into a digital jet, not knowing any of the controls, struggling with getting the canopy down, and managing 400 different buttons, but somehow, I managed to get the jet into the air.

I cannot describe to you the sensation of having your brain tell you, that you are flying. No $250,000 flight simulator with 16 point gravity axis could compare to what the brain itself is capable of doing.

With my knuckles turned white, and my body shaking, I took my fighter into a slow spin, reeling and convulsing with fatigue and nausea.

We took our jet back down (I think it was an F-35 or an F-22, I'm not entirely sure), and I failed landing because I couldn't get the gear down and came in too hot, but it didn't matter.

Ripped my helmet off, room is spinning, I'm soaked in sweat.

My friends can see this, because my avatar did the signature "lurch" when you take your helmet off and put your controllers down.

I slowly put my helmet back on and hoisted my digital body back up the ladder into the cockpit, one rung at a time, practically crawling back in.

My friends go: "Are you OKAY?? You're going again?"

I was lurching and I put my hand on the throttle, keeping my head back against my chair to stabilize my head. Karo got into the passenger seat behind me to make sure I was alright.

Karo says: "Listen, it's okay if you never want to play VR again, you've been through a lot and it's not for everyone. We can take a break and try again. You don't need to do it all in one day."

I look back at him delirious and I go: "Video games, Karo", video.... games.... while laughing.

I pushed the throttle forward, and we both felt that 3-8Gs of simulated force shove us back into our seats, the sun gleaming on the cockpit as we broke straight through the cloud layer with a shock cone ahead of us

Again, I'd never give up VR for anything now. For ~$3000, there's basically nothing in life that can come close to that level of entertainment value per dollar.