I saw "Girl, Interrupted" when I was 13 years old. It's based on Susanna Kaysen's memoir of her time spent in a psychiatric facility after being diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). My parents (specifically my mom) called me into the living room and said I should watch it because I'm like the main character. That's fun. Being told you're probably as fucked up as someone who has a legit, diagnosable psychological disorder. The irony is that it's my mom who has BPD, which is exacerbated by also being bipolar (these tend to be co-morbid). It's a form of gaslighting but I didn't realize it then. The person says you're crazy when you react like a normal person in an intense situation, and so you start to wonder if you're justified in feeling the way you feel. Weirdly enough, if you point out that they're overreacting to a situation, they get even angrier and the reaction gets even more out of proportion (learned that the hard way). I spent a good deal of my early life convinced I was crazy and worried I'd turn out just like my mom. This fear colored many of my life choices. I was scared to have children because no one deserves a childhood like mine. No child should ever be afraid that any slightly wrong move will set off their mother. No husband should walk on eggshells to avoid saying/doing something that will piss his wife off for seemingly no reason. Even now, I'm very careful and measured in how I express anger, especially around my son. In some ways, I think this has made me better person but in other ways, I wonder if I suppress my own needs and feelings just to avoid conflict. To avoid having my emotions invalidated again, because they so often were. Just another pattern I have to navigate and break out of.
Why do the birds go on singing?
Why do the stars glow above?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when I lost your love
After taking abnormal psychology, I became more concerned I did have BPD, based on the symptoms, and it didn't help that my stress reaction was to yell at my boyfriend (now husband) for ridiculous things. I also took on more risk-taking behavior that only certain people knew about. It felt like my identity was fractured. Like I had to be another person depending on the situation/company - and those personas were often drastically different. During the height of the troubles with my mom, I did end up going to see one of the psychologists at the university. Yes, I had an eating disorder slowly taking over my life and was severely depressed (both as a result of my childhood), but no BPD diagnosis. Coincidentally, after my mother started treatment for her mental illness, my mood swings and identity instability got a lot better. It's almost like having a traumatic stimulus removed helps with healing. That was sarcasm, if you didn't get that. Of course removing traumatic stimuli helps with healing! It's well-known in psychology that it's almost impossible to get better in the same environment where you were originally wounded. That being said, going home this past weekend was not as triggering as I thought it would be. But it was triggering....just not in the way I expected.
It's hard to face and accept one of your biggest failures. For me, it's accepting that I can't make my mother better...nor is it my responsibility, even though it feels that way. I did the best I could, given the circumstances, but love isn't enough. I've also learned and realized things about my parents relationship, which I've somewhat idealized for a long time. I don't know much of what is real, anymore, and I'm profoundly humbled by this. I've always known that very little was in my control but this is the first time I've actually felt it and been content. I don't want to force things anymore. It's pointless. The past is past....and the past is means nothing if your present is terrible. If people leave, they leave. If things don't go the way I'm hoping, I can't do much about it. The only thing that matters is what I do next. What's the next step? It's a hollow feeling, but it's freeing. I know I've said it before but I'm almost certain I mean it this time - I'm all outta fucks to give.
Why does my heart go on beating?
Why do these eyes of mine cry?
Don't they know it's the end of the world?
It ended when you said goodbye
I've rambled enough in self-pity for now, but I did want to take a moment to talk about the scene where I pulled "The End of the World" from. It's probably one of the most disturbing scenes I've ever watched (and, as a horror fan, I've seen some fairly disturbing shit). Susanna (Winona Ryder) and Lisa have escaped the mental hospital and have holed up in Daisy's new rental house. Lisa (Angelina Jolie), a sociopath, has started an argument with Daisy (Brittany Murphy) in which she insinuates that Daisy likes being sexually abused by her father. While Lisa and Susanna are out, Daisy slashes her wrists and hangs herself. When they discover her body, "The End of the World" is playing. Over and over and over. Lisa says they have to go and starts looking through Daisy's room (while her body hangs there) to find cash so they can continue on their way. For Susanna, though, this moment is a catalyst. She's disgusted by Lisa's callousness and refuses to go with her. She realizes that she doesn't want to end up jaded like Lisa but she also doesn't want to destroy herself, like Daisy. In order to avoid both these tragic outcomes, she must commit to getting better. She returns to the hospital with renewed purpose and essentially becomes a model patient, focusing on her therapy and her writing. "Girl, Interrupted" is a hard film watch for many reasons. I do see myself in Susanna, which is scary. But I also see aspects of myself in Daisy, which is scarier. However, I like to think I've been blessed with a level of self-awareness that keeps me grounded.
"The End of the World" Video
