Ok, so I've been obsessing a little since I saw 50/50 the other night. Like "I-can't-go-to-sleep-because-I-can't-stop-thinking-about-it" obsessing.
Here's what I'm obsessing about - his girlfriend wasn't there for him.
I (like I have a tendency to do in my own life) keep going back to those painful moments in the movie where he needed care but didn't have her there or when she flat out neglected him and reimagine the situation with what I would have done and make it better. My God, I've practically rewritten the movie in my head!
I don't know if it's my way of rewriting my own illness story in some ways or if I am just so hungry (and willing) for love, but I can't stop. Since writing things down usually helps clear my head, I'm doing that.
Now, maybe I can focus on work and go to sleep - or else I'm going to have to find a cute guy with cancer to take care of.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
50/50
I saw the film 50/50 tonight - Joseph Gordon Levitt plays a 27-year-old man who finds out he has cancer, Seth Rogen plays his friend (the comic relief) and Anjelica Huston plays the overly worried mom.
I don't know that I can say that I liked the movie as much as I experienced it and connected with the universality of severe illness. I felt like I was watching the product of some support group conversations where we all just kept saying "I know what you mean" and "I've been there." It didn't hurt that it was also set in Seattle.
First, the less-serious connection - Seattle. I swear that I had no idea that the movie was set there, but from the first moment when JGL appeared on screen jogging beside water, I started thinking of Seattle. There wasn't anything I recognized specifically, I just felt that was it. I also had a laugh that the characters worked at KVXT (a very cute substitute for KEXP). I found myself ignoring what was actually happening and scanning the exterior shots to see if I recognized any locations. Well, I actually don't know if they even really filmed there since they didn't include any recognizable landmarks, but it still made me have that "home" feeling I always have when it comes to Seattle.
Now, the more-serious connection - illness. While the diagnosis and the circumstances of the diagnosis were different, I could identify with so much of the movie: the moment the denial breaks down and you realize you are one of the "sick people;" wishing that everyone would cut the bullshit pleasantries and just admit that death is a reality and that it sucks; the desire to give up and just have it all end. The "mechanics" of IV treatments, surgical panic, tests, etc. hit WAY too close to home - I teared up some at other parts, but I lost it when he went into surgery. All the fears and submission came back to me in that instant - especially of my first surgery. Of course I didn't have the luxury of getting pot to help me through the worst of it :)
I couldn't take off the filter of my personal experience to watch the movie - I just couldn't separate the fictional (though based on a real situation) from my similar life. When the character was deserted by his girlfriend and felt even more alone after an unfulfilling attempted one night stand, I wanted to physically crawl into the screen and comfort him. It just all felt too real.
So, when people inevitably ask if I liked the movie or if it was good, I don't know how to answer. Once again, my illness separates me from the rest of the public. I guess the truth is that it hit too close to home for me to recommend. Although the rest of the audience seemed to react to some of the same parts (though not for the same reasons) and many clapped at the end, I don't know that this movie would appeal to a general audience that doesn't have a certain point of reference.
Still, I appreciated the journey.
I don't know that I can say that I liked the movie as much as I experienced it and connected with the universality of severe illness. I felt like I was watching the product of some support group conversations where we all just kept saying "I know what you mean" and "I've been there." It didn't hurt that it was also set in Seattle.
First, the less-serious connection - Seattle. I swear that I had no idea that the movie was set there, but from the first moment when JGL appeared on screen jogging beside water, I started thinking of Seattle. There wasn't anything I recognized specifically, I just felt that was it. I also had a laugh that the characters worked at KVXT (a very cute substitute for KEXP). I found myself ignoring what was actually happening and scanning the exterior shots to see if I recognized any locations. Well, I actually don't know if they even really filmed there since they didn't include any recognizable landmarks, but it still made me have that "home" feeling I always have when it comes to Seattle.
Now, the more-serious connection - illness. While the diagnosis and the circumstances of the diagnosis were different, I could identify with so much of the movie: the moment the denial breaks down and you realize you are one of the "sick people;" wishing that everyone would cut the bullshit pleasantries and just admit that death is a reality and that it sucks; the desire to give up and just have it all end. The "mechanics" of IV treatments, surgical panic, tests, etc. hit WAY too close to home - I teared up some at other parts, but I lost it when he went into surgery. All the fears and submission came back to me in that instant - especially of my first surgery. Of course I didn't have the luxury of getting pot to help me through the worst of it :)
I couldn't take off the filter of my personal experience to watch the movie - I just couldn't separate the fictional (though based on a real situation) from my similar life. When the character was deserted by his girlfriend and felt even more alone after an unfulfilling attempted one night stand, I wanted to physically crawl into the screen and comfort him. It just all felt too real.
So, when people inevitably ask if I liked the movie or if it was good, I don't know how to answer. Once again, my illness separates me from the rest of the public. I guess the truth is that it hit too close to home for me to recommend. Although the rest of the audience seemed to react to some of the same parts (though not for the same reasons) and many clapped at the end, I don't know that this movie would appeal to a general audience that doesn't have a certain point of reference.
Still, I appreciated the journey.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Back to a Time
I can't believe it's been 10 years since "September 11" became a noun instead of a date.
I have been uncontrollably glued to the documentaries, survivor accounts, reruns of coverage of that day and anything else related to that moment in history today - almost as much as I was when it originally happened. It's like watching the movie Titanic - you know it's going to end terribly and you want it to hurry and get to that point so it can be over and life can go back to normal. The problem is that life will never go back to normal.
I remember so many moments from that day as if I have traveled back in time and am reliving it. I remember the helplessness, the rising panic of wondering what might be "hit" next, the heartbreak of wondering if Lance and Marsi were traveling that day - possibly being part of the tragedy - then realizing that feeling was being magnified by millions across the country. I sat in the glassed-in lobby at Southern Progress waiting on co-workers who I was going to dinner with and had a moment of all-too-real imagination of what the people in the World Trade Center saw when the planes flew into their buildings.
Before the events of that day, I would look at planes flying by and wonder where the people on board were going, whether they were going on a dream trip or going to a business meeting they were dreading... Now, even in Birmingham, AL, I see a plane and I have a feeling of panic and connection to seeing smoke billowing from the Trade Center Towers.
The day I went to New York, I came out of the Port Authority and saw a multi-colored building that I instantly recognized from an ad for one of the movies about 9/11. In my psychic mind's eye, I saw the shadow of a low-flying plane imposed on the building like I had seen in the ad - it stopped me dead in my tracks for a minute. THAT was how I knew I was actually in New York.
I feel respect, admiration and reverence for everyone lost in those buildings, their families and those who managed to survive. I can't put the emotion and weight in my heart I feel when I even begin to think about it all. When I think of visiting Ground Zero or seeing an exhibit of items from the WTC, I have literal panicky heart palpitations.
I'm not "psychic," but I have had moments in the past where a core part of me or "third eye" or whatever zeroed in on some energy in a traumatized location and was overwhelmed by the emotions of the time and consciously tranported to the event. If that has happened in relatively low-impact locations, I have a terror of what I might experience connected to either Ground Zero, the field where Flight 93 went down or even the Pentagon.
People always say "Never Forget 9/11." Those of us who lived through it never will, but no matter what we do to keep it alive, the generation that will not be able to understand the true impact of that day has already been born. While none of us who lived through it will ever forget the actual events, the facts, or our own emotions of the day, we have forgotten the comraderie and mutual support the country had for the week or so after. We were all afraid to laugh or do anything that might be construed as disrespectful to the tragedy. We were all proud to be American - no matter race, religious belief, or political affiliation. It was a Utopian existance that could not be sustained.
And so, 10 years later, some of the after effects of the infamous 9/11 continue and some disappeared with the clean-up of the rubble and the launch of the subsequent military action. We all carry the scars in one way or another with us, but we all also carry the knowledge that we, as a country, can survive the unthinkable.
I have been uncontrollably glued to the documentaries, survivor accounts, reruns of coverage of that day and anything else related to that moment in history today - almost as much as I was when it originally happened. It's like watching the movie Titanic - you know it's going to end terribly and you want it to hurry and get to that point so it can be over and life can go back to normal. The problem is that life will never go back to normal.
I remember so many moments from that day as if I have traveled back in time and am reliving it. I remember the helplessness, the rising panic of wondering what might be "hit" next, the heartbreak of wondering if Lance and Marsi were traveling that day - possibly being part of the tragedy - then realizing that feeling was being magnified by millions across the country. I sat in the glassed-in lobby at Southern Progress waiting on co-workers who I was going to dinner with and had a moment of all-too-real imagination of what the people in the World Trade Center saw when the planes flew into their buildings.
Before the events of that day, I would look at planes flying by and wonder where the people on board were going, whether they were going on a dream trip or going to a business meeting they were dreading... Now, even in Birmingham, AL, I see a plane and I have a feeling of panic and connection to seeing smoke billowing from the Trade Center Towers.
The day I went to New York, I came out of the Port Authority and saw a multi-colored building that I instantly recognized from an ad for one of the movies about 9/11. In my psychic mind's eye, I saw the shadow of a low-flying plane imposed on the building like I had seen in the ad - it stopped me dead in my tracks for a minute. THAT was how I knew I was actually in New York.
I feel respect, admiration and reverence for everyone lost in those buildings, their families and those who managed to survive. I can't put the emotion and weight in my heart I feel when I even begin to think about it all. When I think of visiting Ground Zero or seeing an exhibit of items from the WTC, I have literal panicky heart palpitations.
I'm not "psychic," but I have had moments in the past where a core part of me or "third eye" or whatever zeroed in on some energy in a traumatized location and was overwhelmed by the emotions of the time and consciously tranported to the event. If that has happened in relatively low-impact locations, I have a terror of what I might experience connected to either Ground Zero, the field where Flight 93 went down or even the Pentagon.
People always say "Never Forget 9/11." Those of us who lived through it never will, but no matter what we do to keep it alive, the generation that will not be able to understand the true impact of that day has already been born. While none of us who lived through it will ever forget the actual events, the facts, or our own emotions of the day, we have forgotten the comraderie and mutual support the country had for the week or so after. We were all afraid to laugh or do anything that might be construed as disrespectful to the tragedy. We were all proud to be American - no matter race, religious belief, or political affiliation. It was a Utopian existance that could not be sustained.
And so, 10 years later, some of the after effects of the infamous 9/11 continue and some disappeared with the clean-up of the rubble and the launch of the subsequent military action. We all carry the scars in one way or another with us, but we all also carry the knowledge that we, as a country, can survive the unthinkable.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Instant Doubt
This was a remarkable week of doubt for me.
It started on Monday as I started to try to create profiles on online dating sites. I've decided to give it a try less so to meet someone for a serious relationship and more so to learn more about dating. It's kinda like how you go on job interviews sometimes for jobs you don't actually want so that you learn more about how to be good at interviewing so you get that job you really want.
I was so confident about myself when I first had the idea. I think that I am so much more comfortable with myself now that I was when I tried online dating before and have a lot more friends who give me wonderful feedback all the time so I didn't think putting together a profile would be hard. It ended up being next to impossible. I may be comfortable with myself, but when I am forced to point out what is awesome about me, I have trouble doing it - at least when it will be the first impression to someone new.
Then, on Wednesday, I went to my GI. It was supposed to be a usual check-in appointment - except that I've developed this fucking hole in the crease of my left hip recently. Yep, it's a complication of Crohn's and it signaled that the one part of my diseased intestine that was not completely removed has decided to wage war on me. Since it is disconnected from the rest of my digestive tract, it at least doesn't have the same impact on my overall well-being that it used to, but it does mean that I have to go back on aggresive medicine therapy. This damn thing will never leave me alone!
The worst part was that I finally got to take my pants of for an incredibly hot guy and it was just my doctor who then told me I was all wrong below the waist. What else is new? :)
Add on to all of that not having power for 2 days (throwing me out of my routine sets a shaky foundation to set other things on) and I had the making of a craptasm of a week.
I'm sure that not being constantly distracted by theatre stuff and being around that social circle every night like I have been for 6 months also had a little to do with my deflated self.
So, fast forward to last night, after the ETC show, I started talking to one of my actors that I had made a bit of an emotional connection with in my last show. We stood in the parking lot talking for over an hour and a half as he told me all the shit he was dealing with and I shared with him all the similar shit I'd dealt with - a family that didn't live up to the idealized expectation, a lack of identity outside of the chaos of that family, etc. As many people as I have who care about me and who I care about now, sometimes I don't realize that I still feel alone in someways until I find that kindred spirit and realize that I can breathe in a way I wasn't before.
The lessons of self never cease - no matter how far I think I've come or how much I think I've learned. I can be set back in an instant, but also rescued from that backsliding in the same amount of time.
That is universal power.
It started on Monday as I started to try to create profiles on online dating sites. I've decided to give it a try less so to meet someone for a serious relationship and more so to learn more about dating. It's kinda like how you go on job interviews sometimes for jobs you don't actually want so that you learn more about how to be good at interviewing so you get that job you really want.
I was so confident about myself when I first had the idea. I think that I am so much more comfortable with myself now that I was when I tried online dating before and have a lot more friends who give me wonderful feedback all the time so I didn't think putting together a profile would be hard. It ended up being next to impossible. I may be comfortable with myself, but when I am forced to point out what is awesome about me, I have trouble doing it - at least when it will be the first impression to someone new.
Then, on Wednesday, I went to my GI. It was supposed to be a usual check-in appointment - except that I've developed this fucking hole in the crease of my left hip recently. Yep, it's a complication of Crohn's and it signaled that the one part of my diseased intestine that was not completely removed has decided to wage war on me. Since it is disconnected from the rest of my digestive tract, it at least doesn't have the same impact on my overall well-being that it used to, but it does mean that I have to go back on aggresive medicine therapy. This damn thing will never leave me alone!
The worst part was that I finally got to take my pants of for an incredibly hot guy and it was just my doctor who then told me I was all wrong below the waist. What else is new? :)
Add on to all of that not having power for 2 days (throwing me out of my routine sets a shaky foundation to set other things on) and I had the making of a craptasm of a week.
I'm sure that not being constantly distracted by theatre stuff and being around that social circle every night like I have been for 6 months also had a little to do with my deflated self.
So, fast forward to last night, after the ETC show, I started talking to one of my actors that I had made a bit of an emotional connection with in my last show. We stood in the parking lot talking for over an hour and a half as he told me all the shit he was dealing with and I shared with him all the similar shit I'd dealt with - a family that didn't live up to the idealized expectation, a lack of identity outside of the chaos of that family, etc. As many people as I have who care about me and who I care about now, sometimes I don't realize that I still feel alone in someways until I find that kindred spirit and realize that I can breathe in a way I wasn't before.
The lessons of self never cease - no matter how far I think I've come or how much I think I've learned. I can be set back in an instant, but also rescued from that backsliding in the same amount of time.
That is universal power.
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