So you've heard of 122?
So you met a friend during O-week. They're lively, clever, and excited for their first semester at a top-tier university. But a few weeks into the school year, you'll notice them shying away. They won't seem as alive at parties. They'll sit quietly during board game night while everyone else laughs and makes joyful conversation. They might even crawl someplace dark and quiet, like a sick cat hiding under your bed waiting to die. Wondering why? Well, it might just be 122.
Taking care of a friend with 122 is tricky. You want to communicate that you sympathize with them, but avoid sharing stories of your own intro course struggles or saying phrases like "I understand what you're going through." Because if you do, Iliano can't find out, or it's an AIV.
It may seem like their life has been consumed. It's an early lecture, then office hours, practice problems, precepts, programming homework, more office hours, more programming homework, rinse and repeat. The best thing you can do for them is provide a stable outside perspective and a steady guiding force in the right direction. Push them into bodies of water if you can smell them from more than two feet away. Delete their laptop's bootloader configuration, forcing them to take time away from c0vm. Take them to a rave in an abandoned warehouse, call the cops, and slip fent into their pockets.
What's most important to remember is that 122 doesn't last forever. At the end of the semester, your friend, crushed but finally free, will accept their C with a begrudging finality. And as the roads turn to ice and the campus dining locations close at 2 PM, you'll be on the other side of this. Together. Your friend may not be quite the same as before, but things will be okay.