January 12, 2009

What I Think

Ok, first off I will warn you: this post is prompted by a dramedy. But you know what, I really don't give a shit. To all those that scoff at the idea of some fluffy story is stupid because it wasn't written by a dead author or a “great” writer: you're narrow minded. Everyone interprets things differently. Something you read and love I may hate. Something I love you may hate.

That's life.

I appreciate EVERY story. No matter how bad, how cheesy. It's a piece of someone that they've put out. This applies even to the stories I don't like, whether they be movies or books. It's still something that was created from someone's mind. But people are moved and love different things and yeah, this super cheesy movie actually clicked some light bulbs on for me.

Ok. So here goes. The movie was P.S I Love You. Yes, it's that movie with Hilary Swank and Gerald Butler.

Moving on.

There will be spoilers and stuff BUT anyone who's watched the trailer knows that Gerald Butler's character dies almost immediately. The movie is about his widow (Hilary Swank) and the letters she receives from him after he's dead. The letters encourage her to move on, to let go, but softly. From what the movie shows, they were in love. LOVE love. The kind that I thought only movies show. The kind that makes me bitter, the kind I say will never happen but secretly hope it will. It also focuses on moving on. Something I am really, really not good at. A good friend said something very true and I refused to acknowledge for a long time. She said that perhaps I'm unhappy and expect the worse is because that's comfortable. I only know how to accept the bad because I did for a very long time so it's the first thing I look for, the first thing I understand.

It's true.

It's my comfort zone. It's easy for me to think other people don't like me. That they secretly hate me because in the past it's happened. But that's just it, it's the past right; I can't change it. Take last night for example. My purse got stolen. If that's my biggest trouble.... I am really fucking lucky. So I lost some money, a phone and some other really trivial shit. Whooppppdeeedo. It's in the past, why dwell on it? I can't change it, I can't constantly blame myself or be angry at the person who took it because it happened. It's done. No shoulda, woulda, couldas can bring it back. Anyway, that isn't what this post is about. It's about being alone. In the end, after she receives that last letter, she breaks down and comes to terms with the fact that he is gone, but she also realizes that she's alone, but not alone. In the end, we're all alone, so we're all together on that. Yes, you will love someone, yes you will have friends. But they can't complete you; that's impossible. The only person that can take an action is yourself. People can encourage you but they can't force you to do something for yourself. That's a step that you alone have to take.

To me that's daunting.

I realize that in that way, I am very similar to my mother. I never want to take an action on my own, no action without direction because I need something to fall back on. I need a reason why it failed. I think that's why it's so hard for me to play the guitar or sing. If I do it badly, it's on me no one else. It takes practice. I can't read any directions that will magically and automatically make me good. I can learn it, but I have to LEARN it. Some one can help me but in the end I am the one that has the power to become good at it. I have to be the one to step out of my comfort zone, no one can drag me out of it. In the movie, most of his letters were about encouraging her to live and follow her dreams. That she can do that without him because it's all in her.

I have loved, I have lost that love therefore I'll find something else. As for my mom. That's tricky. I think... no, I know that she affects me because I am looking for that source of comfort that we all look for as a child; when we are still unable to be completely alone. But as we get older, we need to find it in ourselves. I can't hate her because I don't love myself or because I can not comfort myself. Yes, she may not have taught me how to do that BUT it's something that I still have to learn. It's not something she can just throw in me. I have to learn it. I have to learn a lot of things and that's fine. I keep thinking that it's too late because I feel that so many other people already have that knowledge, that I'm so behind... oh look, I'm looking for an excuse; a set of directions to follow so I can blame something for my lack of knowledge but I can't because I can STILL learn it.

When I was first diagnosed I thought I could blame a majority of my actions on being bipolar and yes some of the things I do I really can't control. But there are a lot of things that I can control and can't blame on the disorder. I can change the way I think. As I've said before, the medication does NOT alter how you think, rather, it subdues the way you feel so that instead of emotion taking over, logic can. So that when I want to scratch myself, when I want to smash a mirror, when I look longingly at a bridge or rushing cars, my emotions aren't the first thing I act on, because they are temporary; they do not last. But logic does. It's what makes us eat, work, laugh, create. Yes, emotions help in creativity but if you rely on them you'll never really be able to finish anything as they are temporary. Unless you start a project and only return to it when you feel a certain emotion. But that would take years to complete and would you ever feel that it's whole because that emotion will never end, so how can anything based on that be finished? Right now, the thing I really feel I can create are stories and my stories change with how I feel. I can never just write a complete story in one mood because when I go back and edit it I'm all “whooooooooooooooooa Heather, that's a bit heavy and makes no sense”.

I refused to accept that anything was wrong with me because I am constantly looking to others for how I live my life. I thought that maybe I was just doing it wrong so I would punish myself. I seek approval from almost everyone else before I take a step. Hence why I am terrified of people not liking me. I'm scared that I'll do something wrong... lol but how can I? It's my life. It ridiculous because I do this even down to the music I listen to. I have over 40 gigs of music but never listen to the old music because I feel that I need something new, I need to be caught up with everyone on the latest thing.


No, I don't know record labels, no, I don't know directors, no I can't tell you about all the technical aspects of music and movies. I can only tell you about how I feel about them, the story I get out of them because that's what I do. I feel. I usually feel too much but I know have meds that help that. Lol.

So yeah, call this movie horrid, call it an abomination but fuck it. I liked it. I got something out of it.

Isn't that all that matters? Yeah, it is.

1 comment:

alice said...

I think this: It's a horrid side effect of this fucked brain thing that we share, that you had to write a nine mile long post to convince yourself that it's okay for you to admit to the world that you liked a certain movie.

But it's also actually a lovely side effect if you think about it, because most people don't spend more than three seconds deciding whether or why they enjoyed a movie or not, and certainly wouldn't take the time to relate that to the myriad experiences and thought patterns that might have influenced your choice or ability to just be you.

I do think that whatever wires us differently has the potential for making us if special, unique and maybe even at some sort of advantage over regular folks. There are times when I wish I was "normal" or at least what I perceive "normal" to be, and then there are other times when I honestly don't even have the capacity to imagine what normal might be like.

This is all I know. And sometimes it sucks more than anything, and other times it totally rocks. Maybe that's just hypomania talkin' but you know what, in the right situation, with the right support, our OMGIHAVETHEGREATESTIDEAINTHEFUCKINGWORLDS
really ARE great. And really WOULD change the world. It's the follow through we have trouble with. In fact, were I a wealthy sane person, I'd find me a whole bunch of bipolar people to work with. I'd support and encourage their best ideas and then I'd have a group of totally sane people to follow through on them. I'd be a millionaire in no time, I KNOW it! And the world would be a better place.

Keep writing your stories. And for god's sake, if you like a movie, ANY movie, there's no shame in that. You're a very intelligent girl, and you have the right to your own likes and dislikes. Period. Luckily for me, I've really never had an issue with voicing my opinions, and at some point, I quit obsessing over what anyone else thinks of me.