izigame.me

This f*cking piece of junk-ass game is the worst f*cking game ever. "Getting Over It" is not a game—it's a psychological torture device disguised as an indie art project. This sh*t made me break my monitor three f*cking times. THREE. I’m typing this on a replacement keyboard because the last one was murdered by a flying coffee mug during my fourth fall back to the f*cking beginning. Not to mention, my PC’s fans were screaming like they were being exorcised, overheating so bad it could've cooked a godd*mn steak on the GPU.
This game made me so loud, my parents thought I was possessed. They packed my bags and drove me to an adoption center like I was some kind of demonic foster project gone wrong. Do you know what it feels like to be disowned because a man in a pot couldn’t climb a mountain with a f*cking hammer? I do.
And Bennett Foddy? That calm-ass narrator with his smug, philosophical bullsh*t quotes while I’m spiraling into a black hole of pure f*cking rage? F*ck that guy. No one needs a voiceover quoting Nietzsche when they just lost 45 minutes of progress because their mouse had a slight hiccup.
You think you’re making progress, right? You hit the tree, passed the garbage can, launched yourself over the house, and you're like, "Maybe I can do this." Then BAM—you overshoot the slide by 2 pixels, and now you’re in a pit so deep it might as well be Hell itself. It’s not just a fall. It’s a soul-crushing, reality-shattering descent that takes your will to live and tosses it off the f*cking cliff along with your self-esteem.
I screamed so loud during one fall that the neighbors knocked on the door to check if I was dying. I was, Brenda. I was dying inside. Every time I think I’ve gotten better, that maybe I’ve mastered the controls—NOPE, the game hits me with a "f*ck you" swing that launches me from near the top all the way back to the f*cking tree at the very beginning like it's some kind of sick joke.
And don't get me started on that f*cking anvil section. Whoever thought "Hey, let’s make a pointy piece of sh*t cliff with nothing but slippery rocks and hope" should be jailed. In a pot. With a hammer. Forever.
This isn’t just a game. It’s an emotional purging ritual. It's like Bennett Foddy looked at the concept of hope and said, "Let’s make a game that sh*ts directly on that."
F*ck this game. F*ck the pot. F*ck the hammer. F*ck the mountain. And f*ck whoever decided that mouse-only controls were a good idea for platforming.
Anyway. I’ll probably play it again tomorrow