After years of keeping a FOMO mindset and preying on consumer wallets, this game has only gotten worse — far worse than the original version. And it breaks my heart to say that.

I’m sad… but also strangely proud that I’ve come this far. I’ve poured over 4,000 hours into this game. I played long before it was even on Steam. At first, I was a pure free-to-play grinder — a happy, casual player. Then slowly, painfully, I turned into what they call a “wallet warrior.” I made my account in 2013, and throughout the years I went from a clueless rookie to someone who streamed the game for two full years on Twtch and YouTbe. Back then, I genuinely enjoyed every second. The grind, the fun mix of arcade and realism, even when I tried simulator mode — it was challenging, but it was MY challenge.

I used to grind every vehicle event, selling and trading carefully so that I never even needed to pay real money for premium vehicles or premium time. And I will never forget the day I got my first afterburning jet with missiles: the F3H Demon on March 21, 2023. It took me 10 years to reach that moment. I streamed the whole thing because I was proud — happy — excited. The learning curve was steep, but fair. When I topped the scoreboard, I knew it was MY skill. When I lost, I knew it was MY mistake. The BR was balanced. Nothing felt unfair or overwhelming. You could out-turn, out-run, or out-skill enemies. YOU were the pilot. YOU were in control.

Balance used to matter.

Now? Everything has changed.

The entire game revolves around FOMO. If you don’t grind for endless hours or swipe your card, you WILL get left behind. Every event requires perfection — if you miss even one day, just one mark, you lose the vehicle forever… unless you pay real money to buy it. And each mark takes 4–6 hours of gameplay for casual players. Sometimes events require 6–8 marks. If you want to sell the vehicle later, the requirements nearly double — 35k score becomes 80k. Suddenly those 4–6 hours become 8–12 hours every 48 hours. It stops being a game. It becomes a second job — a punishment — a chain tying you to the chair.

And that’s not even counting the frustrating servers and technical issues.

This is their end-game design: Fear of Missing Out. Not skill. Not passion. FEAR. You think you’re choosing to play… but the game is choosing how you behave — how much time you waste, how much money you spend, how guilty you feel if you miss a day.

I still log into War Thunder from time to time, hoping things have changed. Hoping it feels like the game I once loved.

But deep down, I know the truth:
It stopped being a game.
It became my second life.

And that’s when I realized… I needed to let go.

For anyone thinking of starting this game:
Stay away while you still can.
Don’t let it take your time, your joy, or your wallet — like it did mine.