Why Doki Doki was so depressing to me

After I played Doki Doki, I needed 3 days of Netflix to recover.

When I downloaded it off the marketplace, I expected a bright, happy game. I saw bright colors, smiling faces and overwhelmingly positive reviews. It looked nice, a welcome change of pace from the FPS games that abound my Xbox One. It looked a little cringey but if we're playing it for class I had no doubt it would be a good game.

I saw the game was under the genre "Psychological Horror" which I thought was weird. I chalked it up to a mistake in the system. Or if it wasn't, whatever.

I left to eat and when I came back the game was read to play. I booted up the game. The constant content warnings were odd but I ignored them, thinking they didn't mean much. After all, they're putting "R" ratings on every movie today.

I put in my name and the character was being addressed as "Dan". Immediately, I noticed, I was a dick. I didn't value my friend, Sayori, even though it was clear I should. We'd been friends since childhood and she cared about me. I'd put my name in games before but I'd never considered it a mistake. I've always felt more engaged and had a better time but this time it was just making me sad.

Next, I joined a club for a dumb reason. I cringed and turned off the screen, taking a break for a few minutes. Is this what dating simulators are like?

The next few hours of the game were alright. I found myself picking happy words in a desperate effort to make my character happy and self-confident, to lift my character out of the world of dating sims and be content with just enjoying talking to the girls about literature.

With every poem, Sayori got nicer and nicer. Insisting more and more that I have fun and enjoy myself. She seemed to really care about me and my word choices seemed to really please her. In a game where every action I made make my real self visually cringe, Sayori's kindness made my real self smile.

Then, Sayori got sad. I became sad. She sat in the back of the room with her head in her hands. However, my character did nothing. Monika went over and said something to her while I sat here talking with the other girls, ignoring the one person who I should actually care about. When Sayori came back and said she was going home for the day I felt doubly awful because my character just let her go when she clearly needed me. I ignored her, even now, when I knew she needed it most.

I'd been able to ignore my actions before and I continued to identify as my character but I felt myself starting to detach. I had no choice and the world just kept moving on, kept on making me sad.

I wanted to stop but I kept playing because I'd been told there would be a good twist.

Then, I found out Sayori was depressed and we went to her house. I started to identify with my character once more as I finally seemed to value her. I tried as hard as I could to make her feel better and for once, I agreed with my own actions.

I had the option to choose to say I love you to Sayori. I said yes and we hugged. I was glad that I could finally lead myself to what I'd wanted the whole time.

The game was getting interesting again and I was identifying with my character more than ever before.

As I left my house for the day of the festival, we passed by her house and it was clear something was wrong. After all we'd progressed, after me finally identifying with myself once more I was troubled by my actions. We went to school and then rushed home, my blood rushing the whole time. My heart dropped and I said "no, no, no" aloud as I opened the door.

I threw my headphones on the ground and welled up as my heart beated uncontrollably.

Doki Doki made me challenge what my identity means and the incredible opportunity that video games have to portray ideas. The whole game I tried to distance myself from my own actions and tried to distance myself from my own reality. The whole game, the whole world, seemed to unilaterally move against me. I felt, at least for a second, that I understood a fraction of what Sayori felt.