I Wish I Were A Robot

You reach over to hit snooze on your alarm and turn to lie on your back, eyes focused on the ceiling. You can afford an extra 10 minutes in bed. But your body is a prison. It has rules-- you must sleep, you must eat, and you must breathe. You’re trapped in a vessel designed to survive, whether you like it or not. It’s time to get up now. You heave yourself out of bed and trudge toward the calendar at the other end of the room, tacked to the wall. There’s an important meeting today, scheduled for later in the afternoon. (text-style: "shudder")[A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear.] [[Ignore it | Ignore01]] (css: "font-size: 120%")[[[Listen | Listen01]]] (set: $Listen to 0)

You ignore it. A fleeting thought, nothing more. You mark the date off with a sharpie and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A tired, hollow shell stares back at you. Despite fatigue, her posture is straight. Shoulders taught, chin high. Looking a little emaciated-- her spine is clearly visible when she turns around. If you didn’t know any better, she looks fine. You sigh and make your way to the bathroom and start running water for what will be your first shower in [[three days |May2]].

"Don't do anything. Go back to bed. [Lay there and rot."]<c1| (click: ?c1)[Who are you? You ask.]<c3| (click: ?c3)["I'm you."]<c4| (click: ?c4)[No you're not, you respond.]<c5| (click: ?c5)["You sound so sure."]<c6| (click: ?c6)[Stop. Snap out of it. You mark the date off with a sharpie and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A tired, hollow shell stares back at you. Despite fatigue, her posture is straight. Shoulders taught, chin high. Looking a little emaciated-- her spine is clearly visible when she turns around. If you didn’t know any better, she looks fine. You sigh and make your way to the bathroom and start running water for what will be your first shower in [[three days |May2]].] (set: $Listen to 1)

You dreamt about it again. You wake to find tears welling in your eyes, and there’s no stopping it. A steady stream of sorrow, warm and familiar, springs forth and blurs your vision. Despite being alone, you’re embarrassed. More than that, you’re angry. You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping to stop the tears from escaping, but they continue sliding down your face. Taunting you, multiplying with every blink. Your body is reacting without you. Begging you to go through the motions, to participate, but you refuse. This is not me. (text-style: "shudder")[A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear.] [[Ignore it |Ignore02]] (css: "font-size: 130%")[[[Listen | Listen02]]]

You ignore it. A fleeting thought, nothing more. You push it back down and steady yourself. You take a deep, shaky breath and reach to check your phone. Today you make your bed before walking over to check the calendar. A few more days until your appointment. You can wait a few more days. You reach the kitchen and stare into the fridge. The idea of putting anything into your body sounds exhausting, and so you skip your first meal of many. You go to your laptop and check your emails. An exciting opportunity awaits. You scroll through the details, soaking in every word. Positive words about you, about your work. You should be reacting, but you’re on auto-pilot. There should be a spark but you’re stoking at embers, desperate to create a flame among ashes. A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear. [[Ignore it.|Ignore21]] [[Listen.|Listen22]]

“All you do [is cry."]<c1| (click: ?c1)[No I don’t, you argue.]<c2| (click: ?c2)[“I would never do that.”]<c3| (click: ?c3)[How do you know? You ask.]<c4| (click: ?c4)[“Because I can control myself.”]<c5| (click: ?c5)[Stop. Snap out of it. You take a deep, shaky breath and reach to check your phone. Today you make your bed before walking over to check the calendar. A few more days until your appointment. You can wait a few more days. You reach the kitchen and stare into the fridge. The idea of putting anything into your body sounds exhausting, and so you skip your first meal of many. You go to your laptop and check your emails. An exciting opportunity awaits. You scroll through the details, soaking in every word. Positive words about you, about your work. You should be reacting, but you’re on auto-pilot. There should be a spark but you’re stoking at embers, desperate to create a flame among ashes. A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear. [[Ignore it.|Ignore21]] (css: "font-size: 135%")[[[Listen.|Listen22]]]] (set: $Listen to $Listen +1)

You refuse to entertain the thought and stare blankly at the screen. Trapped. Your mind takes the pieces and puts them together, telling you how a normal person responds. Mechanically, you type out an enthusiastic reply before hitting send. It feels synthetic, rehearsed. Remember what it’s like to feel excited. Emulate it. The day comes to an end, and you crawl back to the warmth of your bed and stare at your phone. The harsh, bright light hurts your eyes. You post as usual. Like some things, comment on others. Empty, but at least you’re present. Going through the motions. [[Time to sleep.|May3]]

[“Bash your head against the screen.”]<c1| (click: ?c1)[What? No. You’re shocked.]<c2| (click: ?c2)[“But you want to.”]<c3| (click: ?c3)[No I don’t. You shoot back.]<c4| (click: ?c4)[“I could do it and not feel a thing.”]<c5| (click: ?c5)[Stop. Snap out of it. You stare blankly at the screen. Trapped. Your mind takes the pieces and puts them together, telling you how a normal person responds. Mechanically, you type out an enthusiastic reply before hitting send. It feels synthetic, rehearsed. Remember what it’s like to feel excited. Emulate it. The day comes to an end, and you crawl back to the warmth of your bed and stare at your phone. The harsh, bright light hurts your eyes. You post as usual. Like some things, comment on others. Empty, but at least you’re present. Going through the motions. [[Time to sleep.|May3]]] (set: $Listen to $Listen +1)

You’re driving down a long and endless road. It’s dark, no one else is around. A truck with Its high beams approaches on the opposing lane, getting brighter as you approach. Your fingers twitch. Your grip around the steering wheel tightens, and a thought intrudes. Swerve. And you do. Before you can react you feel yourself giving in to impulse. You jolt awake. A dream. (text-style: "shudder")[A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear.] [[Ignore it.|Ignore03]] (css: "font-size: 140%")[[[Listen.|Listen03]]]

You ignore it. A fleeting thought. Intrusive. Uninvited. It was just a dream. You lay motionless in bed. Heart pounding, throat dry. Get up. But you can’t. It’s not happening today. It angers you, but the fury is pointless. Where would it go? Nowhere. You roll over and curl into a ball. Hollow. Fragile. Tired. You pinch yourself gently. The subtle pain reminds you of a simple truth: You’re alive. How does it feel? To experience everything and nothing, all at once. You pick up your head and stare at your calendar across the room. Taunting you. [[A few more days.|May4]]

[“You feel a lot of things.”]<c1| (click: ?c1)[I wish I didn’t, you sigh.]<c2| (click: ?c2)[“I can make you feel nothing.”]<c3| (click: ?c3)[I know, you say.]<c4| (click: ?c4)[Stop. Snap out of it. You lay motionless in bed. Heart pounding, throat dry. Get up. But you can’t. It’s not happening today. It angers you, but the fury is pointless. Where would it go? Nowhere. You roll over and curl into a ball. Hollow. Fragile. Tired. You pinch yourself gently. The subtle pain reminds you of a simple truth: You’re alive. How does it feel? To experience everything and nothing, all at once. You pick up your head and stare at your calendar across the room. [[Taunting you. A few more days.|May4]]] (set: $Listen to $Listen +1)

You're not sure how long you've toyed with the idea of killing yourself. You scrunch up your nose and make a face. Kill yourself. It’s the first time you actually said the words. Tasted them. Mulled over the flavor. Depression is weird. It warps your sense of time-- makes you believe the lows are forever. You know it’s not, because you’ve come back before. But it waits. And this time it’s different. You like to joke that your brothers must have stolen the serotonin while you all shared the womb. It’s a chemical imbalance, that’s all. Your parents know you’re depressed-- and they’re supportive. They encourage you. Ask how you’re doing. But you don’t tell them about the tickle. (text-style: "shudder")[An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear. Ignore it.] [[Ignore it.|Ignore04]] (css: "font-size: 150%")[[[Listen.|Listen04]]]

You refuse to entertain the thought and push yourself away from the window, back to the present. [[Would things have been different?|May5]]

[“That’s called depression.”]<c1| (click: ?c1)[No shit, you spat.]<c2| (click: ?c2)[“Or is it something worse?”]<c3| (click: ?c3)[What can be worse than this? You ask.]<c4| (click: ?c4)[“Waking up like this every day, forever.”]<c5| (click: ?c5)[[[Would things have been different?|May5]]] (set: $Listen to $Listen +1)

You sit in your car, stopped at a red light. You left the house today, out of spite more than anything else. As you stare at the light above you, your mind begins to wander. Your parents have a garage with two cars. You could stop by when dad was at work and mom was shopping. You could pull your car into one of the empty spots. You could leave the engine running and push the seat back. You could close your eyes just to see what it would be like. (text-style: "shudder")[A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear.] [[Ignore it.|Ignore05]] (css: "font-size: 160%")[[[Listen.|Listen05]]]

Your eyes dart back to the road. Your grip around the steering wheel tightens. The light turns green and you exhale, not realizing you were holding your breath. You pull into a spot and park. Sometimes you had the urge to leave your house and drive, with no clear destination in mind. Today you wound up at the park. Letting instinct be your guide, You reach back for an old blanket and go to lay out on the grass. Close your eyes. Take deep, slow breaths, until your lungs are full. Hold for a few seconds. Exhale through your nose, even slower. Repeat. You open and close your hands. Wiggle your toes. How long until this exercise works? Flushes your thoughts away? When do you become a person again? Sunlight dances across your skin. The warmth travels across your legs, over your exposed stomach. It tingles. This feels nice. You focus on it. A breeze, steady and cool, brings goosebumps to the surface. This feels good too. But it comes back. It always does. A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear. [[A sigh.|May06]]

[“It’s better than jumping off a parking deck,” the voice reasons.]<c1| (click: ?c1)[No, you argue.]<c2| (click: ?c2)[“Why not?”]<c3| (click: ?c3)[Not in their house. Not like that. I couldn’t.]<c4| (click: ?c4)[“But you won’t feel anything. Isn’t that what you want?”]<c5| (click: ?c5)[more than anything.]<c6| (click: ?c6)[You pull into a spot and park. Sometimes you had the urge to leave your house and drive, with no clear destination in mind. Today, you wound up at the park. Letting instinct be your guide, You reach back for an old blanket and go to lay out on the grass. Close your eyes. Take deep, slow breaths, until your lungs are full. Hold for a few seconds. Exhale through your nose, even slower. Repeat. You open and close your hands. Wiggle your toes. How long until this exercise works? Flushes your thoughts away? Sunlight dances across your skin. The warmth travels across your legs, over your exposed stomach. It tingles. This feels nice. You focus on it. A breeze, steady and cool, brings goosebumps to the surface. This feels good too. But it comes back. It always does. A tickle. An itch at the base of your skull. Crawling underneath your skin, whispering in your ear. [[A sigh.|May06]]] (set: $Listen to $Listen +1)

“Did you hear me?” You look up from the plate in front of you. “Hmm?” You respond. Mom and dad asked you to come over for dinner. You don’t remember driving to their house. Your memory has gaps. Pieces missing. A fog clouding your thoughts. It’s heavy. “How has work been?” She asks again. “Oh. It’s been good,” You say. “It’s keeping me busy.” You pick at your food, pushing it around. They notice you haven’t been eating. Slouching more. “How have you been?” He asks. You process the question. To answer honestly, or lie? [[Answer honestly |Honest]] (css: "font-size: 170%")[[[Lie|Lie]]]

“Not great.” Your voice hitches. Don’t fucking cry. Furrowed brows. Worried eyes examine you closely. You hold your breath and stare at a spot on the wall. Don’t do it. “When are you seeing your...doctor?” He asks. “My therapist,” You correct him. “Um...tomorrow.” “Do you want to stay here?” She adds. “No.” You’re quick to turn the idea down. No one should see this. It’s embarrassing. [[They mean well.|BackToHere]] (if: $Listen is >4) (goto: "KillMyself")

[“I want to die.”]<c1| (click: ?c1)[The words leave your mouth before you can shut it down. Stunned silence. Confusion. Mouths open, struggling for words. Her eyes, wide and glossy. Is she going to cry? You don’t understand. Why would she cry? The feeling doesn’t process normally. “I-- I don't actually want to” You talk quickly. “I just...I've been struggling.” You can't bring yourself to say what you actually meant. They stare at you, and mom seems to be the most confused. “Why?” she asks. A loaded question. An impossible one. You’re not sure how to answer. [[“I don’t...know.”|BackToHere]]]

The three of you sit quietly. “Just let us know how the appointment goes.” He gets up and gently puts a hand on your shoulder as he goes to put his dishes away. You’re supposed to feel something by the gesture but it's diluted. Watered down and tepid. [[“I will,” you say.|May7]]

“Hey, Emma. Come on back.” You look up from your phone and see your therapist, Edwin, motion towards his office. You spring up, probably too eager, and follow him. The office is dim and flooded with a soft orange glow. There’s a diffuser sitting next to a well-watered plant. It's a nice, safe environment to be vulnerable in. The familiar white couch beckons you to sit, and you do. Edwin makes himself comfortable in the armchair in front of you and leans back, offering a smile. “How have you been?” You laugh without feeling it. "I never know how to answer that," You respond. Edwin smiles and you avert your gaze to the pieces of art behind his head. You don't like eye contact. “Can I lie down?” You pat the couch and he nods. Careful not to get your shoes on the fabric, you turn to face the ceiling and place your hands across your stomach. “I’ve always wanted to do this,” you joke. (css: "font-size: 200%")[[[Lie about how you've been doing.|FinalLie]]] [[Tell the truth.|FinalTruth]]

"I've been...fine." (css: "font-size" 200%)[[[Continue the lie.|Continue]]] (if: $Listen is 4) (goto: "Continue")

"...I’ve been struggling.” You finally admit. “Can you walk me through your week?” You take a second. It’s hard to articulate the intrusive thoughts. “I wish I were a robot.” You sigh. “What do you mean?” Edwin asks. “I don't want to feel anything anymore. I'm tired." Edwin remains silent as [[you continue. |Continue02]]

Thank you for playing.

(text-style: "rumble")[You can't keep lying.] [[You need to tell the truth.|FinalTruth2]]

“I’ve thought about killing myself this week." It sounds reasonable, like telling a friend what you ate for breakfast. It should scare you, but it doesn't. "Oh shit, that sounds way more dramatic than I thought-- Um, I’m not actually going to do it, but I’ve been having these...thoughts. I’m not listening to them but I think I need help.” “Okay. Let’s come up with a plan. Does that sound good?” “Yeah.” [[The End|TheEnd]]

Content Warning: Suicidal ideation and depression. PLEASE do not play if you think the content will distress you. I'd rather you be OK, and I thank you for even considering playing my game. Resources: Crisis text line: (link: "Click here.") [(goto-url:'https://www.crisistextline.org/help-for-depression/?gclid=CjwKCAjw4MP5BRBtEiwASfwAL5_69DX8F9EPph_BBwMnz40gU3EvfYQ_au7jf3KNvs-9xI_tXvNpMxoCpgsQAvD_BwE')] [[Continue |Start]]

Tears start to well in your eyes. “I should be able to control myself.” “Says who?” Edwin asks. “Says me. Who wants to associate with a stupid fucking idiot who can’t take care of themselves?” “Would you talk to someone you care about if they were struggling like this?” “No,” you mumble. He’s right. You’re never nice to yourself. You don’t deserve the kindness. You continue staring at the ceiling. “Um...remember that hypothetical I asked about last week?” “Yes." “...What if, hypothetically, I wanted to...you know,” You wave your hand around in the air. Edwin picks up what you’re trying to say and you can see him shift in his seat. [[You start to panic and the words spill forth, uncontained and rushed. |FinalTruth2]]

<center>[[(display: "Car")|May1]]</center>

https://damonwakes.wordpress.com/2019/06/01/twine-for-beginners-adding-local-images/