Getting real with mental illness.

Rorasuketo is ultimately meant to be a story about healing and growth, but for that to mean anything in a narrative sense, you need to establish grief and loss. I decided some time ago that I needed to add an age disclaimer and content warning at the game start. Eek!

While I've struggled with character representation on a few fronts, the themes of mental illness and emotional dysregulation are something I can point to and say, "This is from lived experience, and I stand by it." I've put in my fair share of time in both inpatient and outpatient settings, so the themes surrounding mental illness are rooted in some degree of realism - without going for shock value or melodrama. At least, that's the goal.

 

It's worth explaining that mental health crises are not sexy. They happen, sometimes, in a way that is strangely mundane. After a little while, the bolted-down furniture, absence of ball point pens, and timed shower knobs lose their novelty. And for the staff, you're just part of their Tuesday, and they hear stories like yours constantly. It can almost be a bit of a let-down when you sit under fluorescent lights eating a ham sandwich, and your life is teetering on the brink, but it's also just another day.

The player can invest in our heroine's emotional crisis as much or as little as they like. But the opportunity to do so is there. Maybe you connect or you don't, but my goal is to at least present a setting that establishes a solid start to Kady's journey.

I used to work with a guy who would joke around on stressful days, saying, "I've got Pine Rest on speed dial!" and I always wanted to tell him that he should call Forest View instead because the food was better.

As the kids say, IYKYK.