I want to talk more Schrödinger’s Call (Acrobatic Chirimenjako), other indie games, and why certain ones hit me so hard. Here is my post for the A Quick Review of this game. I ended it by saying I had a feeling that I would have procrastinate before playing the third chapter, and that is the case so far. I mean, it’s only been one day, but still. I find my brain drifting to it over and over again, but then, my brain skitters off again.
I mentioned in the last post that I felt so many feelings as I was playing the game. At the end of the second chapter, Mary was so broken that I broke with her. I don’t know how many chapters the game is, but I have a feeling that I’m going to go through it more and more with each chapter. I will say that I’m a bit worried as to how they are going to end the game.
This is the area where I think there’s so much danger. Because there is usually not as much description in a video game as in a novel or maybe even a movie or TV show. So a game has to rely more on pure emotion*. I have seen a fair few indie games that were great until the last act, and then they completely fell apart.
Whether it’s that they didn’t have time to finish the game; they had an idea they couldn’t quite manifest; or their ending was, well, misguided, it can ruin an otherwise great game. Or at least bring it down a bit.
Back to Schrödinger’s Call. I just watched the launch trailer so I could include it in this post. And I broke once again. There is something about the game that just pierces any defense I can erect, and I can’t keep a shield up for the life of me.
I think it’s partly because I often feel like the world’s last Confidant. That’s my role in my family, and it’s something I tend to do with other people as well. I hear all the deep, painful secrets, and I’m the one to be compassionate and empathetic. I have unironically called myself my mother’s emotional support human, and she has just as unironically called me her therapist.
This game does have times when you have a choice as to what to say to the person on the other end of the line. I find myself fighting between saying what I really want to say and choosing the more palatable answer. Or rather, the one that will soothe their pain. The funny thing, though, is that they often react badly to the lie. Or rather, they know I’m lying. When I choose the harsh answer that is what I really feel inside, they are comforted.
Most of the time. Sometimes, they want the lie. Or at least to hear it. But then they want the truth. I find it endlessly fascinating to see my mind weasels playing out in a game. The dev has very neatly captured the circles my brain runs around in.
“Do I tell the truth?” “That would probably hurt their feelings.” “But the lie is a lie. And I do not telling lies.” And so on.
I have talked about this before, but I have difficulty telling lies in certain circumstances. Such as when I think it’s important to tell the truth. I’m not being snarky; this is how my brain works. About 90% of the time, I know when I want to tell the truth and when I don’t. I get twisted up, though, when it comes to comforting other people. I know that many people don’t want to hear the truth about themselves, especially if it’s something they don’t have an inkling about.
I can’t tell you how many people I’ve startled/surprised by saying something unthinkingly. It’s hard because I’m almost always on my guard. I’m very careful about what I say lest I slip. In fact this is one reason I never had an inkling that I was autistic. I think most people know the stereotype of the almost-mute boy rocking back and forth, spinning and muttering while avoiding eye contact.
Even though the awareness of autism has expanded, it’s still portrayed as a male thing. That means that many non-male people have been overlooked. And that I didn’t think I could possibly be autistic. Oh, and, yes. The idea that autistic people are unfeeling. I watched a video about it, and they explained that they felt all the things; they just didn’t necessarily know what to do with those feelings.
And it made sense that while I’m very finely attuned to other people’s emotions (because I was made to do so by my mother when I turned eleven), I used to have no idea what my own emotions were. Because I was also not allowed to show them. I would stuff them way down until I could no longer tell one from another.
It’s funny because my brother and I have talked about how he has a hard time recognizing emotions, and he relies on me to dissect emotional situations for him. My dirty secret is that I’m no better at them except for the fact that I’ve been studying them for decades. That’s the only reason I’m any good at reading them. He would be, too, if he’d dedicated forty years to the practice.
I have become exceptionally good at reading other peple’s emotions, and, unfortunately, feeling them. It was especially bad in my twenties when I could not block out all that energy. I have become better at it thanks to Taiji, but it’s still wearing on me.
Sometimes, I wonder how much more energy I would have had if I hadn’t had to devote at least 35% of my energy to monitoring other people’s emotions. All the time. Constantly. It’s so tiring, and that’s one reason I prefer being alone.
More tomorrow.
*Yes, they can use text, obviously. But I think they don’t want to rely on it too much in an interactive game. Or rather, they shouldn’t. In my opinion. If I want to read a ton of words, I’d read a novel. I’m not averse to reading in a game, obviously, but I will admit that my eyes start glazing over if there are several dense paragraphs in a row.
Even in a game in which there is a lot of reading, I need it to be broken up a bit–especially after my medical crisis. My focus is not great, and I can’t read for pages on end.