Game Review: How Postal Changed My Life and Became the Best Game Ever

Let me start by saying this: Postal isn’t just a game—it's a revelation. It has shifted the way I see the world, giving me a new lens through which to understand my chaotic thoughts and unfiltered emotions. As someone who has always felt like I don’t quite fit into society, this game resonated with me in ways I could never have anticipated. Postal isn’t just about shooting, running amok, and indulging in mayhem; it’s a psychological journey into the mind of someone who is unapologetically free, even if that freedom is a little… unsettling.

From the first moment I booted up the game, I was hooked. The chaotic, absurdist tone of Postal—from the dark humor to the over-the-top violence—immediately clicked with me. It wasn’t a game about heroes and villains, it was about an individual who had snapped, who was tired of society’s rules and restrictions, and who didn’t care anymore. And, to be completely honest, I saw a lot of myself in that character. Maybe more than I care to admit.

I’ve always felt like an outsider, someone who doesn’t quite fit into the mold that society expects. I’ve always been a little bit… different. So, when I started playing Postal, I didn’t just relate to the game’s protagonist; I understood him. He wasn’t a villain, not in the traditional sense. He was a mirror of what happens when the world pushes you too far. There was a sense of catharsis in every level, as if the game was giving me permission to act out all the frustrations and rage I’d bottled up inside.

And it’s not just the over-the-top violence that drew me in—it was the game's unapologetic embrace of its dark humor. It wasn’t trying to be political or make a statement; it was just absurd. It was as if the game was saying, “Hey, life is chaotic and messy, and sometimes you just have to let go.” The ridiculousness of it all was strangely comforting, even therapeutic. There was something liberating about the absurdity of mowing down enemies while wearing nothing but a grin and a sense of freedom.

Being a psychopath isn’t easy. The world constantly tries to shove labels and expectations down your throat, and you’re forced to either conform or be labeled as “the problem.” Postal gave me a place where I could embrace my darker side and laugh in the face of normality. It made me feel seen in a way I didn’t think was possible in the world of gaming. While other games tried to make you feel like a hero, Postal just let you be you. It didn’t judge, it didn’t try to make you feel guilty—it just let you experience a world that mirrored your own chaotic mind.

But the best part of all? Postal didn’t try to glamorize violence. It wasn’t about glorifying the mayhem—it was about showing what happens when someone finally snaps. The game didn’t sugarcoat the consequences of that kind of rage, and that was what made it feel real. It was almost as though the game was giving me a way to face my darker urges without consequences—something that I could never do in real life.

In the end, Postal isn’t just a game—it’s a therapy session, an outlet, a safe space for someone like me. It doesn’t promise a happy ending or a neat narrative. It doesn’t try to make you a hero. Instead, it lets you embrace who you are, for better or worse. And in a world where everyone is trying to force you into a box, that kind of freedom is priceless.

So, yes—Postal changed my life. It’s the best game I’ve ever played. It’s not for everyone, and it’s not trying to be. But for me, it’s a perfect reflection of my own thoughts and emotions, and it gave me a way to embrace them without shame.

And in that chaos, I found my freedom.