In Trevor Noah’s autobiography, “Born a Crime,” he gets all manner of punishments and whippings from life and his mom, but always feels safe, loved and recovers to go out in the world and be bold again. Toward the end of the book, his step-father, drunk, gives him a beating that he knows is different. His step-father, Abel, wants to hurt him, kill him. After that, no matter how sober, how kind, his step-father was, Noah never let Abel get between him and an exit door again.
As I read that feeling, I realized, life is my Abel. No matter how good things appear to be going, I don’t trust it not to turn. I don’t want anyone or anything between me and an exit door. Trauma is a funny thing.
After reading that, I am wondering, what would it be like to be in my life. Sit in this room, in this day and roll with the punches. The older you get, the easier that prospect becomes. Inch by inch, day by day. I’ll come back.
Just watched “Altman.” A surprisingly good documentary about Robert Altman on Hulu, where I spend most of my life watching late night talk shows to pass my 50s.
And I realized, when it was over and had affected me like a good film will, that I live on a Stepford Wife Street, in a Tornado Alley (and not just metaphorically), in a life I don’t remember heading toward, and I don’t remember who I am. But it made me want to be reminded.
Posted in Film, Healing, Inspiration, Recovery, Screenwriting, Spirit, Writing
Tagged Altman, art, community, Film, healing, Inspiration, Recovery, Robert Altman, who am i
In spite of a hellish week of over work. Tasks I abhor. Unreasonable requests. I feel fine. I have been feeling fine for 4 weeks. Exactly 4 weeks. After …somewhere between 10 and 40 years of moderate to sever depression and anxiety.
I keep thinking of that therapy model I read somewhere, that once you chip away at enough of the crap trees in the crap forrest, the rest just start falling.
Don’t honestly know if it’s a temporary reprieve or a new chapter that doesn’t suck as much, may even holds good things. Just know the trees are falling of their own accord now. OK, sometimes I have to give them a little nudge. But they’re falling.
Posted in Healing, Inspiration, Writing
Tagged anxiety, change, depression, healing, Inspiration, mental health, psychology, Recovery, self-image, spirit, therapy