This is one of the most personal film that made me handle some very painful memories and feelings throughout the film. It's very personal because I have gone through many of the events the film did, but it helped me to see them in another light. It was very therapic, since funnily enough drawn characters helped me to see the people who bullied me throughout the childhood and those who let it happen again as humans. I've always accepted that it wasn't just coincidence that I was targeted, I myself did many things I was ashamed just trying to desperately get the target off my back. I later also realized in my life just like in the film that bullying yourself or others won't help, passively taking it won't help and that many events that finally caused the downspiral of bullying could've been avoided if we kids would've been aware how silly but cruel social hierarchy games the children have in schools. It took me years to trust other people again to laugh with me and not at me.

I saw many familiar characters in the film. My mother, for example didn't ever actually slap my bullies, but I recognized the face right away. I knew the personality instantly of those who bully more "directly" and those who scheme through the hierarchy to avoid direct blame. I recognized those people who were also alone, isolated but one reason or other we never found strenght from each other but instead tried to make it on our own and sometimes running away even when we saw what the other person was going through. I know the person who feels like somewhere deep inside deserved it and the fault is only on them since I'm that person.

I never seriously contemplated suicide, because I thought I was better than that and because it would just prove how pathetic I was compared to my big brother who just went through it all like I did but he just shrugged it off and laughed at the face of those who tried to bring him down. Well, that all changed when I was alone at home to handle his suicide attempt. The movie described pretty much perfectly through it's characters the different effects it did to our family.

The bullying can feel very dramatic or extensive for some, but it really nails down the feeling how it makes you feel like everything you do is simply wrong and makes you scared to cause any kind of reaction or reason for people to notice your existence, and how odd or selfish reasons there can be for the bullying to start.

I was bullied because our family wasn't from that small town and because we were poor compared to the kids in my class. Later as the years passed there really didn't need to be any reasons for the bullying, my involvement was enough reason to mock anything.

Forgive me for dragging politics in, but bullying is one big reason I react so strongly to those who drag identity politics into my hobbies. First I was bullied out of the groups and denied friendship with anyone, then I was bullied for focusing into things such as reading and video games. And now those same people come to my hobby and claim that those hobbies of basically social outcast has been somekind of "boy's club" and implying that we are privileged and entitled when we found something that let us forget the pain of real life for a moment. That we have somekind of sense of superiority towards other people and that our escapism creates real life sexism and racism.

I've experience the moment when in the art class where other teens were praising my painting aloud until to the moment where they realized it was mine, and from that instant it was suddenly only worthy of mockery. If I did well in sports, I was mocked. If I did badly on sports, I was mocked. If I gave a wrong answer, I was mocked. If I gave the right answer, I was mocked. I was ashamed of my parents because for some reason they were worthy of being mocked for trying their best to give us a good childhood through our poverty. My self-image has been rebuilt through pain and tears after it was shattered and even now I have to overcome mental barriers to help myself improve and not isolate because deep inside I still fear that it will just cause more mockery.

And these same people who never experienced it dare to come to me and say that I can never know how bad others have it and how sexist and racist I am. How exactly did my white skin and penis help, what good did it bring into my life through all those years? What exactly must I yet to go through to understand how it feels to not be considered to be like the others, to be somehow inherently defective and not worthy the same things others seem to get in life? Because I sure as hell have known that feeling for decades now.

Sorry for the long ramble with a throwaway account. This movie opened old wounds and it was really cathratic experinece to let it all out. I don't know if many others share the feeling, but the subject matter it has and the way the film handles it really made me appreciate it on a very personal level. It made me forgive myself and others involving many events related to bullying and suicide.