Fish and Cherries Productions

I have somewhat of an inner confession. Not a sin or anything, just something that’s been weighing on me lately.

I don’t have a lot of fun with fighting games. I enjoy them to be sure, but there comes a point where I stop having fun because it… sets something off in me. Whenever one of these games is particularly relentless or cheap, I get very vivid sensations from being ganged up on, either verbally or physically, by strangers and friends alike. Most of the memories involve being told how awful I am or how hopeless it is to play against a friend who has had more time and dedication to it than I have. It’s a general feeling of helplessness that really gets under my skin.

Because there’s some truth to the matter. As a good portion of you know, I have Asperger’s Syndrome, which affects the processing power of the brain. Things that start in the brain take longer to come out and as such, my reflexes are a bit slower than my peers. Sure, there may be a second of a delay, but that’s all it takes for someone to overpower you in these games. It’s always bugged me in subtle ways, the knowledge that I’ll never be as good at these competitive games as my friends, like a splinter of sorrow in my brain. And yes, it affects me even when I’m alone.

This has been my confession for the evening. Have a good one.