This review contains spoilers
CW: Suicide attempt
I wasn't the best student.
Though there was no divine judgement looming over my back, there was the fascist state of Americana that we were forced to worship at all times. Get good grades and you'll be spared from the wrath of poverty. Get good grades and you'll be able to provide for yourself. Get good grades and you'll be loved. Pray to the flag, the iconography of empire, or risk being ousted.
I saw the worst of this because of how poorly I did in school. The first time was simply because I was overwhelmed by the radical change in schooling styles from elementary school to high school. It was a whole new level of workload from before that the faculty was not interested in helping me adjust to, not helped by the fact that I would not be diagnosed with autism until I was almost done with schooling. The second time was when I fractured my femur in three places. I couldn't walk, so I had to be taught from home, and being taught from came with its own challenges and a lack of connection that I didn't realize I required to thrive.
The third time was when I attempted to take my life when I was 16.
I often think about how much different my life would have been had I not taken that choice. How much more pressure the school put on me simply for having a moment of weakness like that. I often come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter, because the systems that we live in would have led me to that outcome regardless, even if it had taken longer. And the schoolwork would pile up and pile up, crushing me under its weight, which becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of death wishes.
I graduated only two years ago, which is weird to think about, because it feels like it's been so much longer. I have recurring nightmares about what it was like to be in that place. About the constant dread of what would happen if I failed. And the worst part is that, much like our ghost girl friend in this game, I blamed it all on myself. I thought that if only everyone did their best, things would be different. If I hadn't happened upon communist literature toward the end of my time, then I'm not sure what would have happened to me.
I thought a broken system was perfect because it was all I had ever known.
Thank you, Woodaba. For sharing this beautiful story.
I wasn't the best student.
Though there was no divine judgement looming over my back, there was the fascist state of Americana that we were forced to worship at all times. Get good grades and you'll be spared from the wrath of poverty. Get good grades and you'll be able to provide for yourself. Get good grades and you'll be loved. Pray to the flag, the iconography of empire, or risk being ousted.
I saw the worst of this because of how poorly I did in school. The first time was simply because I was overwhelmed by the radical change in schooling styles from elementary school to high school. It was a whole new level of workload from before that the faculty was not interested in helping me adjust to, not helped by the fact that I would not be diagnosed with autism until I was almost done with schooling. The second time was when I fractured my femur in three places. I couldn't walk, so I had to be taught from home, and being taught from came with its own challenges and a lack of connection that I didn't realize I required to thrive.
The third time was when I attempted to take my life when I was 16.
I often think about how much different my life would have been had I not taken that choice. How much more pressure the school put on me simply for having a moment of weakness like that. I often come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter, because the systems that we live in would have led me to that outcome regardless, even if it had taken longer. And the schoolwork would pile up and pile up, crushing me under its weight, which becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy of death wishes.
I graduated only two years ago, which is weird to think about, because it feels like it's been so much longer. I have recurring nightmares about what it was like to be in that place. About the constant dread of what would happen if I failed. And the worst part is that, much like our ghost girl friend in this game, I blamed it all on myself. I thought that if only everyone did their best, things would be different. If I hadn't happened upon communist literature toward the end of my time, then I'm not sure what would have happened to me.
I thought a broken system was perfect because it was all I had ever known.
Thank you, Woodaba. For sharing this beautiful story.