Words by Michelle Chen
I moved to the UK and studied a Masters degree in Game Design, and for my final project I made a game about my experiences with depression. I had been working as a programmer in the video games industry back in the Philippines and Taiwan for 8 years at that point. I told people I had a quarter life crisis, I was tired and burnt out and I felt that the video games I was developing were not contributing anything to the world.
I was anxious and depressed, so I quit my job, packed my bags and moved to the other side of the world, where I knew no one. I decided to go back to school, and even though the games industry burnt me out, I still like video games. And for the first time, I had the opportunity to make a game that I cared about.
Growing up in Asia, mental health was not something we talked about. Therapy and mental health support are too expensive and considered a luxury. But I knew that something was wrong with me, but I didn’t know how or where to turn to for help. So I did the one thing I do know. I made a game about my experiences with depression.
I don’t know how to express my feelings with words, so I used art and game design. In the game, you play through someone’s day, but each interaction is a puzzle, a challenge. You take a bath, but you’re just lying in the bath and it starts raining and the water overflows and you feel like you are drowning. Because that’s what it feels like to me.
But I didn’t want the video game to be just my experiences, so I made a project on HitRecord and asked people, “What does depression feel like to you”. I had over 100 submissions from strangers on the internet sharing their personal stories, while it made me sad, it made me feel less alone. Their stories shaped the video game, and the games’ music was an original composition by someone I only knew by their username.
It changed my perspective on how games can be made, and I wanted to do more. Around this time, Brexit happened, so I packed my bags and moved to the other side of the world, where I knew no one (again). I decided to continue school, this time for a PhD in Australia.
For my PhD, I co-created video games with people about their lived experiences of depression and anxiety as a form of creative self-expression. I organised month long game jam workshops, where my participants (who are not necessarily game developers) developed the video games with me. They contributed their lived experiences and stories to the game design and narrative, and since video games is multidisciplinary, some of them contributed to the art and music, while I did the programming. This was during Covid so we were meeting online once a week, and we are able to share our experiences and struggles with each other in a safe space.
The games we developed, we released online, and showcased them at different games events in Australia. The first PAX after Covid, I invited my participants for a panel at PAX, and over a hundred people came to hear us talk about our video games. My participants really enjoyed the experience of making the games, because as one of them said, it turned an experience that was negative into something that can promote a deeper understanding and awareness of mental health challenges. While another participant liked that it was something tangible that people can play and experience.
I have since graduated from my PhD and officially a Dr. in Video Games (my Asian parents are so proud). I have commercialised my research into a startup, and I now have a team of people who also believe that we can use video games to promote mental health awareness and literacy. And of course, I’m still doing the one thing I do know.
We are making a new video game called Bobarista, and it combines bubble tea making with mental health support. In Bobarista, you play as a wombat bobarista in a magical bubble tea shop in the middle of the forest.
It’s fun when you create a game with a team. My teammate and narrative designer, Fitri, was inspired by a coffee shop in Indonesia that only opens sporadically, even at midnight, while I was inspired by a coffee truck in the Redwood Forest in Warburton, which is near where our other teammate and product owner, Emma, grew up. And even though I was born in Taiwan, Emma was the one who suggested we make a bubble tea game. Our teammate, Cheryl brings our inspirations to life with her lovely art, and our teammate Nick adds the sound and music to complete the vision.
In the game, you get to meet different characters that are based on Australian animals, each going through a different mental health challenge. You also play mini games that will help you understand what they are going through in a deeper way, and to cope with their mental health. Like my PhD, we want to create characters that are based on people’s lived experiences, so our first few characters are based on ourselves.
The character I relate to the most is Bob, a platypus with an identity crisis (am I a mammal or a reptile?). He is a mature-aged student returning to university after being made redundant from his IT job. He struggles to find his identity as he tries to fit in with the younger students while balancing his experience in the workforce. Bob’s mini game is based on the Exquisite Corpse, where players get to pick Bob’s outfits for different events. Players must match Bob’s head wear, top and bottoms to create an appropriate outfit. Fun fact, when I did my PhD, my closest friends (who I met the week before Covid lockdowns happened in Melbourne) were 19-year-olds with too much energy. And I may have changed my wardrobe to hoodies, and started hiking to fit in.
At the end of the day, we want to use video games to tell diverse stories, and in the future, we will conduct workshops to invite people to create new characters with us. We want to create a cozy space where players can slow down and learn about, and cope with their emotions and mental health. Our vision is to reimagine mental health care through cozy, heartfelt games that share untold stories and reach those often left behind by traditional support.
Bobarista was showcased at Melbourne International Games Week 2025.
