i’m sat here watching a film about a young girl in university who is suffering with substance
abuse and depression- the works.
She writes regularly and is upset that her depression is sinking her writing development. She gradually, forcefully pushes out the people close to her and begins to lose sight of who she is (or at least who she thinks she is or wants to be). Looking at her actions, her behavior,the things she says, the way she cries, the way she flips out at people she wouldn’t ever imagine flipping out at – reminds me of myself when I was there and when I am in that head space. It forces me to shamefully reflect on a time when I was like that – damaged goods, fucked up. Even now I occasionally find myself in the same numb head space where nothing can satisfy you because there is no such thing as the idea of hope.
In this film I love the concept of Christina Ricci’s obsession with ‘needing’ things at specific times or something catastrophic may occur. For instance, she ‘needs’ a guy to kiss her at a specific time or she may have to be alone with her own thoughts – escapism. She calls him her Saviour. Not because he means something incredibly significant to her, nor has he done something for her to love him dearly (yet). An inch of respect and endearment from him and she is putty in his hands, she is vulnerable and needy. He is her saviour because if he doesn’t keep her distracted with a temporary display of affection, she will be left alone with her thoughts -the thoughts that may kill her. She gives up her dark disposition to a man temporarily. Little does he know, he will own her vulnerability. Like Lizzy in the film, the person who is representing my exterior doesn’t match up to the person navigating my interior. I have 2 minds that make up things I wish I would say and things I end up saying.
The thing that enchants me the most is her reliance on her partner. She is so madly in love with him that he is her crutch. Her sense of sensitivity is completely broken and she tears out the emotions of people around her. She does it to the people that are closest to her and creates havoc through a vicious circle. Strangely, I can empathize with the emotion and sensitivity that Lizzy lacks. It’s mental, how I can understand her. Every little outburst and episode.
For me when you are living through this, every emotion is temporary. You cannot get attached to something that make you feel ‘happy’ or ‘fulfilled’ because before you know it, it will be replaced by that dreaded feeling and sometimes it’s OK to end a post or a thought on a note that doesn’t always represent optimism, because that just aint life.