Took me a long time to read this. I had to work up the courage. I didn't work medical. I was a cashier at a local grocery store/gas station. This entire situation was hell on earth. Arguably worse than hell, at least in hell you know you're there because you deserve it. People went straight into shit. Just the most vile, self-absorbed, abusive shit. Retail is bad to start with but this was a whole new level I had never seen before. I won't go into detail here, but I am inspired to write about my own experiences now. I completely lost my faith in humanity during all of this. I've only recently gotten a tiny electron-sized spark of hope back.
I will forever be grateful, however, that I didn't have to watch people die. I knew it was happening. I also knew that I would absolutely have lost my mind if I had to deal with that myself, in the darkest and most severe definition of the term.
This topic needs to be covered and it's incredibly important. We need to make sure people don't try to forget or minimize how much damage there IS. Not WAS, IS. So many people are dead, and so many are broken and still living. So many people are changed forever, either through the consequences of being infected or the consequences of having to work in proximity to such visceral and unexpected danger. Workers were put straight into the grinder with very little consideration for the risk nor any thought put into proper care during or after. My boss did try his best with what little he had, but even so it was still far too little.
Thank you for finishing this. I remember seeing the first few pages on Twitter years ago, but then I left and I was so sad I might not see it done. (Then when I found it again it was after I Woke Up to how broken this entire situation made me and I couldn't even finish it until now lololol so it goes <3)
once again barbatus's art and prose work seamlessly together to deliver the harrowing heart and soul of this comic. i've read a few first-hand accounts of front-line workers not dissimilar to this, but i don't think i've felt the lasting impact quite like this. barbatus's art carries so much frantic energy and his writing forgoes purple prose in favour of blunt, crystal-clear communication. there's no room for misunderstanding or watering down the emotional weight behind each panel.
i don't get the vibe this comic cares if i've "learned anything" - that doesn't feel like the point. it's a personal account of the events intertwined with the terror that comes with remembering and the self-deprecation customary of a mind trying to rationalize trauma.
see, i live in canada and the covid-19 pandemic hit at a very convenient time for me. i was among the lucky few who came out the other side relatively untouched. i barely remember those years simply because they were uneventful for me - the complete opposite to most people's experiences, especially barbatus's. i've never doubted the pandemic's effects being considered an international trauma, but it's only been a nebulous idea to me.
this work - this intensely personal and vulnerable conversation - reminds me it's not an abstract truth but a visceral one. That even when it's "over", there was and is real horror for everyone even remotely close to the front lines. That the effects are lasting, that the trauma is real. That I'd forgotten the swabbers and vaccine distributers weren't "saints in scrubs" but people who are doing everything they can to unglamorously piece together what's left into something resembling who they used to be.
it feels odd to rant and rave and recommend reading this account - like i'm commodifying what's a very vulnerable work like it's just entertainment. but i genuinely do recommend buying and reading and re-reading it. like all of the work on this itch.io page, i'd kill for a physical copy to revisit every few days the same way i return to SADSACK. i'm going to be thinking about it for a very long time.
barbatus, i know it means little coming from a stranger, but i'm glad you're alive. i'm glad some part of you has made it through. i hope my comment's come across less as pity and more as appreciation, though it's not up to me to say if it has. i hope you get to feel alive again, too. thank you for taking the time to create this piece and share it. i'm wishing you all the best
โ Return to frontline autobio
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Took me a long time to read this. I had to work up the courage. I didn't work medical. I was a cashier at a local grocery store/gas station. This entire situation was hell on earth. Arguably worse than hell, at least in hell you know you're there because you deserve it. People went straight into shit. Just the most vile, self-absorbed, abusive shit. Retail is bad to start with but this was a whole new level I had never seen before. I won't go into detail here, but I am inspired to write about my own experiences now. I completely lost my faith in humanity during all of this. I've only recently gotten a tiny electron-sized spark of hope back.
I will forever be grateful, however, that I didn't have to watch people die. I knew it was happening. I also knew that I would absolutely have lost my mind if I had to deal with that myself, in the darkest and most severe definition of the term.
This topic needs to be covered and it's incredibly important. We need to make sure people don't try to forget or minimize how much damage there IS. Not WAS, IS. So many people are dead, and so many are broken and still living. So many people are changed forever, either through the consequences of being infected or the consequences of having to work in proximity to such visceral and unexpected danger. Workers were put straight into the grinder with very little consideration for the risk nor any thought put into proper care during or after. My boss did try his best with what little he had, but even so it was still far too little.
Thank you for finishing this. I remember seeing the first few pages on Twitter years ago, but then I left and I was so sad I might not see it done. (Then when I found it again it was after I Woke Up to how broken this entire situation made me and I couldn't even finish it until now lololol so it goes <3)
once again barbatus's art and prose work seamlessly together to deliver the harrowing heart and soul of this comic. i've read a few first-hand accounts of front-line workers not dissimilar to this, but i don't think i've felt the lasting impact quite like this. barbatus's art carries so much frantic energy and his writing forgoes purple prose in favour of blunt, crystal-clear communication. there's no room for misunderstanding or watering down the emotional weight behind each panel.
i don't get the vibe this comic cares if i've "learned anything" - that doesn't feel like the point. it's a personal account of the events intertwined with the terror that comes with remembering and the self-deprecation customary of a mind trying to rationalize trauma.
see, i live in canada and the covid-19 pandemic hit at a very convenient time for me. i was among the lucky few who came out the other side relatively untouched. i barely remember those years simply because they were uneventful for me - the complete opposite to most people's experiences, especially barbatus's. i've never doubted the pandemic's effects being considered an international trauma, but it's only been a nebulous idea to me.
this work - this intensely personal and vulnerable conversation - reminds me it's not an abstract truth but a visceral one. That even when it's "over", there was and is real horror for everyone even remotely close to the front lines. That the effects are lasting, that the trauma is real. That I'd forgotten the swabbers and vaccine distributers weren't "saints in scrubs" but people who are doing everything they can to unglamorously piece together what's left into something resembling who they used to be.
it feels odd to rant and rave and recommend reading this account - like i'm commodifying what's a very vulnerable work like it's just entertainment. but i genuinely do recommend buying and reading and re-reading it. like all of the work on this itch.io page, i'd kill for a physical copy to revisit every few days the same way i return to SADSACK. i'm going to be thinking about it for a very long time.
barbatus, i know it means little coming from a stranger, but i'm glad you're alive. i'm glad some part of you has made it through. i hope my comment's come across less as pity and more as appreciation, though it's not up to me to say if it has. i hope you get to feel alive again, too. thank you for taking the time to create this piece and share it. i'm wishing you all the best
im genuinely honored by this & dont take your thoughts as pity at all - thank you