I think I struggle with FOMO, "fear of missing out," defined in psychological terms as the pervasive fear that there are rewarding experiences from which one is absent. Because of this, I tend to take on too much content. The result is that I don’t spend much time thinking deeply about any of it. I’ll flit from a comic to a novel to a video game to a board game without focusing on any particular aspect of the material.
I also struggle with collecting too much. I collect board games, comics, CCGs, RPGs, video games, VHS tapes, paperback novels--you name it. I collect so many different things that none of my collections feel particularly meaningful. I don’t take much pride in them because my mental bandwidth is so stretched that none of my collections feel especially deep. What I’m left with is a very middling collection of most of the things I collect. This experience may be related to theories about collecting as a psychological compulsion, such as those linked to hoarding behaviors or the concept of "material possession attachment." These theories suggest that collecting can serve as a way to manage anxiety, establish a sense of control, or create a tangible connection to the past.
I’m not sure how common this affliction is. I'm not sure if it is even fair to say I have "material possession attachment." It seems you should only pathologize things that cause difficulty. Financially, I’m okay. I have some savings, a retirement plan, a house, a car, and a little money left over. I tend to spend that discretionary money on collectibles. Many of these collectibles are linked to my childhood, adolescence, and teenage years, or they are literally items I had during those formative years. It doesn’t take a psychoanalyst to see that my desire to collect objects has a temporal dimension--it’s clearly connected to nostalgia and the desire for a previous time.
I had a wonderful childhood. It was idyllic. I grew up with an older brother who was the coolest. He taught me about the X-Men, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, baseball cards, and comic books. I also had a younger brother, and together we played Magic: The Gathering, HeroQuest, Nintendo, and watched all sorts of great sci-fi and fantasy movies. In middle school and high school, I made lots of friends. We did theater together, but we also played Dungeons & Dragons, Ultima Online, and fighting games like Mortal Kombat and Street Fighter II. My best friend, David, was really into JRPGs like Final Fantasy, and I got into those as well. In my view, these games and IPs all share a thematic unity centered on adventure, camaraderie, and the triumph of heroes over adversity.
In addition to friends and siblings, I had a large extended family--cousins, aunts, grandparents--who gave me opportunities to see movies, play arcade games, go to Putt-Putt, bowl, and enjoy all sorts of bright-lights, big-fun activities.
Now that I’m 41, I live with my wife, but we’re far from family. Our academic jobs have taken us away from our hometowns. I think it’s fair to say I’m a lonely guy. We never had children. I wanted children, but my wife didn’t. Sometimes I’m struck by the silence of our house, and I experience it in a negative way.
To circle back to my FOMO, I wonder if much of it has to do with a specific type of loneliness--a condition I’ll call "nostalgic isolation." This term captures the unique experience of longing for the communal warmth of a rich and engaging childhood while navigating the comparative solitude of adulthood. In my psychological map of time, the past is a time when I was surrounded by loving people and a strong support network. By contrast, adulthood is isolated and quiet. You’re on your own.
Nostalgia, collecting, and the attempt to recreate the past through the acquisition of content--all of these feel like an effort to time travel back to that warmth and connection.