The tear-streaked faces of the microscopic employees piloting Aubrie HQ contort into simultaneously lugubrious and panicked expressions as they scurry about my cognitive space, shrieking and putting out fires. The “Among Us” crisis alarm blares through the chaos, encouraging the fray, deepening the sense of utter dread.

I may or may not be in panic mode.

Okay, I’m exhibiting a flair for the dramatic — but the anxiety that’s inevitably introduced by the uncertainty of a looming university graduation is gnawing at me. It’s not necessarily the worry about becoming a “real adult” that’s got me troubled; to be honest, I can’t wait to graduate and finally start my life outside of school. Burnout has eaten away at my motivation and, regrettably, my personal passion for video games.

Don’t get me wrong: Games are still a focal point of my personal and professional life, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I still play video games in my day-to-day, though they’re oftentimes competitive, multiplayer titles like “League of Legends” and “Marvel Rivals.” I will still go on lengthy tangents when asked by non-industry friends about any aspect of development and the industry, such as current events, production or publishing.

I still love gaming the same way a cinephile adores movies or a musician loves music.

But that’s the issue that arises in every creative professional’s life when they transform their personal passion into a fruitful — or not so fruitful — career. Integrating one’s ultimate passion into work is most people’s dream, and oftentimes makes being a cog in the corporate machine substantially more bearable. Yet, it blurs the line between work and play, profession and passion, productivity and pleasure.

I’ve been writing my column for around two years now, an achievement that I’m incredibly proud of. “Downloadable Content” is a platform for me to discuss what interests — or concerns — me in the games industry, whether that be market trends, layoff counts or topics of personal intrigue.

My column didn’t originate with the intention of it becoming portfolio fodder for me to shill during job interviews, to prove a “demonstrated interest” in video games. I started writing my column because I love video games — and I love writing about the things I love. It seems at some point along the way, I lost sight of that.

Starting last semester, when I would sit down to write my column, I was no longer filled with a sense of ardor and anticipation as I brainstormed. Instead, my writing routine took a different shape: Google games industry news, select something tangentially related to something I cared about, churn out a piece — clockwork.

I found myself chained to the illusory idea that anything I wrote had to bolster my portfolio in some way, another tool in my arsenal to be deployed as a demonstration of my elite understanding of the industry. This mindset was unsustainable: my eagerness and enthusiasm eroded into ennui and apathy. My column was no longer an outlet, but another chore to check off my already lengthy list of tasks.

This shift in purpose was far from intentional. There was never a moment when I consciously resolved, “My column is a tool, not a treat.” When you’re already drowning in an ocean of ambition, it’s natural to be swept away in its relentless waves.

The inexorable march toward my graduation has planted a whole field of career anxieties in my brain — and they’ve been blooming at an alarming rate. However, I’d be lying if I said that all the revelations brought about in the past month have been net negatives.

The idea that yes, I too will graduate and join the desperate scuffle for a job in the games industry came with a realization of its own: I haven’t found personal joy in playing or writing about games in a long while. Booting up a game has been met with existential dread rather than excitement; talking about games has come with career concerns.

It’s not that I’ve fallen out of love with video games — quite the opposite. I still feel a joyous burning in my heart when engaging with them. Rather, I feel as though my relationship with the medium has been hijacked by achievement culture and corporate America. So, in 2026, I’ve made it a goal to reclaim this relationship that has been a focal point of my life for over 15 years.

I’ve begun to yearn for the prelapsarian version of my column, the version driven by passion. And so, for my last first installment of the semester, I’m letting you know that while my column these final four months may not always be as technical and professional as it’s been in the past, I’ll be writing from the heart. In rebuilding this relationship, I’m sticking to what I want — and that’s gushing about my love for the medium that’s shaped me.

Aubrie Cole is a senior writing about video games in her column, “Downloadable Content,” which runs every other Friday.