Category: fandom

When The Exorcist Hits Home

Posted on by Grayson
Content note: discussions of abuse
I have always enjoyed media around scary things. Scary things tend to help my PTSD, but there’s something more to it. It’s something I’ve been trying to figure out how to word, but just couldn’t ever fully construct the thought.

 

When I heard they were making a TV series about The Exorcist, I was way too excited. Season one was set around Regan, originally played by Linda Blair in the 1973 movie. You follow her story as an adult, played by Gina Davis. She has a husband and children but changed her name to avoid her mother as well as her history. Through the season, it comes out the Angela (her assumed name) is actually Regan and that’s why negative things continually happen to her family. She takes on the demon who has possessed her daughter and all kinds of stuff happens. I won’t say more in case you’re interested in catching up.

 

Season two just started and it’s really good. People were upset that this season wasn’t focused around Regan. However, it’s focused on the actual exorcists from the first season. They’re battling demons, themselves, and a conspiracy within the Catholic Church.

 

It’s all the things I love come together.

 

We have Playstation Vue and it has a DVR. We love it, especially me – I tend to watch more TV than T does. Regardless, I catch up on shows the next day or a few days later, so I was just watching last night’s episode.

 

 

Spoilers ahoy!

 

About halfway through the episode, Marcus and Tomas – the two priests – visit a home where the daughter is supposedly possessed. In order to conduct an exorcism, certain things have to be found in the afflicted person. These include speaking in tongues, knowledge of the future, ridiculous strength, an aversion to holy things, and physical changes. These all have to be present.

 

Marcus and Tomas are debating whether or not the girl is possessed. They learn from an outsider that the girl has been ill all her life, going in and out of hospitals, but no one can figure out what’s going on. This is different than the mother had stated, which then concerns Marcus. After all, why would the mother lie?

 

Marcus searches the house and finds a box of pills. Medications including hallucinogens are found and he’s able to piece together quickly that this girl is being poisoned. The mother, it turns out, has Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy (MSP).

 

(More on this later.)

 

Marcus bursts into the girl’s bedroom, pushes the mother away, and tells Harper “You are clean. You are pure.” Mrs. Graham, the mother, has been filling Harper’s head with lies in addition to the medications. Mrs. G yells at both priests, telling them to leave, but they refuse. As Tomas chases after the mother (and gets a head wound), Marcus comforts Harper:

 

M: “You’re safe now. Do you understand?”
H: “No, I’m sick.”
M: “No. No, you’re not the sick one. Your mum’s the sick one. You’ve done nothing wrong.
H:“It hurts.”
M: “I know. I know it does, sweetheart. It’s gonna carry on hurting for a long time. You’re gonna look at other kids, other parents, and you’re gonna say ‘Why me? Why can’t I have that life instead?’ And then… you’ll get better. You’ll come out the other side. You’ll be stronger than you were before. Cause you will know exactly who you are. That’s what survivors do.”

 

The mom then bursts in.

 

M: “Close your eyes and don’t open them, no matter what you hear.”

 

Marcus’ attention constantly shifts back to Harper, comforting her when he can in between this altercation with Mrs. Graham.

 

The third party mentioned earlier, a social worker, has gotten the cops as she was denied entry to the home. They show up at the perfect time to help put an end to the fight. The next scene occurs in a hospital, where Marcus and Tomas are catching up.

 

M: “Do this long enough, you think you understand evil in all its forms, every face that it wears. Then something like this comes along. Least with a demon, you know where you stand. There’s a… purity to the design, a logic, a form. But a parent who did that to their own child… makes you wonder what the hell you’re even trying to save.”

 

End spoilers, begin overanalysis!

Ever since I was young, I’ve enjoyed things around possession and demons. Despite growing up in abuse, I still felt interested in evil. I never really understood why. I felt like there must be a reason.

 

As I was watching this episode, Mrs. Graham’s action took me by surprise. I did not see this twist coming and was unprepared. My mother was accused of MBPS, which is part of what led to her pulling me out of school and away from healthcare providers.

 

A few weeks ago, T and I were catching up on one of my favorite podcasts: Wine and Crime. I had decided we should skip the episode where they cover MSP. One night, though, after listening to something else discuss the condition, I couldn’t sleep. The wheels in my head were turning, focused on the odd paralells. Instead of being able to sleep, I listened to the skipped episode.

 

One of the reasons I like Wine and Crime is because they go through the psychology behind a condition or crime. It’s done in a way that is tasteful and not full of ableism (usually). I started to understand even more about the need for attention that some people have. Mother meets many of the warning signs – craving attention and being depended upon, wanting others to see her as overly devoted and saintly, boundary issues, exaggeration, etc.

 

I’ve thought of the odd similarities before but thought it couldn’t happen because I am sick. Just because someone has some of these tendencies doesn’t mean they act on them. It also doesn’t mean they don’t take opportunities that present themselves, either. She did not have to make me sick, but certainly enjoyed the attention around it for ages.

 

She begged me to apply for SSDI, despite the fact that I was not even close to bad enough, because I feel that she wanted to tell people about her disabled daughter. She always told me I’d die early, that no one would love me, etc.

 

Whether she has MSP or not, the similarities are striking and telling.

 

Everyone needs a Marcus

I won’t lie – I rewatched these scenes three or four times. I cried for a while. I made T watch when he got home, simply because it confirmed a thought I had once about why I like these kinds of shows. I needed someone to witness the feels I was having.

 

The truth is I could’ve used a Marcus a long time ago, someone to hold me and tell me that this is going to suck and hurt. Someone to tell me it was going to eventually start feeling less raw, too, would’ve been amazing. Who knows whether or not I would’ve believed a Marcus.

 

Still, I know this phrase would’ve been beneficial: “Cause you will know exactly who you are. That’s what survivors do.” Hell, three years removed from contact with my mother, and this is still heavy (in a good way).

 

Even more, Marcus’ analysis of the situation in the hospital is, for me, spot on. I am strangely comforted by the idea of evil, demons, and possession. It has a routine to it. There are rules to that world that we don’t have in humanity, things that even evil won’t violate.

 

I would feel more comfortable, surer of myself against a demon than I do against my own mother – and that’s a damn shame.

 

 

Captain Janeway Sucks

Posted on by Grayson

captain janeway sucks

Growing up, I always loved Captain Janeway. It was one of those naive baby-feminist things – finally, there is a female captain! I felt like she was the epitome of sassy and strong, just what a starship captain with a vagina should be naturally.

Earlier this year, I wrote a post entitled The Raven about the Star Trek: Voyager episode of the same name. We were in season four of the seven-season series and Seven of Nine was just going through her initial Post-Traumatic Stress fun. This was especially important as I had finally been diagnosed with PTSD in 2015.

I started to identify with Seven, the hot chick, for the first time in my life.

I never identified with Seven before. She was the unattainable hot girl with more logic than a Vulcan. She had these amazing outfits and cool face makeup. She was out of reach. Because of our shared diagnosis, though, she became incredibly relatable.

The small child in me – the one who was going through all of these PTSD episodes while Voyager was on – cringes so much at all of this. As soon as The Raven hit our television screen earlier this year, I knew she had PTSD. I said it before the Doctor even did once given both her reactions and the findings of his scans.

Poor T, watching all of these with me. I like to think these episodes helped me explain some PTSD things. I’m sure it really wasn’t fun to watch with me, though.

In the following episodes, most people on the ship are helpful with Seven. They understand that some of her reactions aren’t things she can control and go out of their way to help when they can. It takes a while for most, sure, but the adventures Voyager faces seem to speed up this acceptance. The Doctor, a holograph, becomes both her biggest fanboy and advocate.

Captain Janeway does not advocate for Seven, quite arguably the most vulnerable person on the crew. Instead, Seven finds herself used and abused not unlike she did with the Borg. One could argue that, on Voyager, using Seven in these ways makes their actions even more reprehensible than the Borg – at least with them, Seven wasn’t really conscious of what was going on. She didn’t have rights to be taken away.

In Retrospect, Seven’s PTSD is even further defined by a violation from a trader. Instead of really championing for helping Seven, Janeway takes the offender’s side of things pretty quickly. In addition to this, Janeway removes Seven’s free will in several episodes, using Seven to accomplish whatever means she wishes.

I’m not sure why this is. Is there a female jealousy component here, that Seven is logical, intelligent, and beautiful? Does Janeway feel threatened? Or, like some parents, does she feel as though Seven’s entire life and being should somehow be hers?

I don’t know.

I do know this is all in stark contrast to Captain Picard who works tirelessly to help the members of his crew understand life. I can’t help but wonder how Data would have done on Voyager instead of the Enterprise. I’m sure Janeway would have been proud of him, but it seems as though she would have also manipulated him where possible, too.

Picard isn’t without his faults, but it certainly seems Seven would have done better had he discovered her during his time as Locutus of Borg.

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As a child, I so loved Voyager. I didn’t really pay attention to the plot, but it was Star Trek – my favorite. I paid much more attention to The Next Generation episodes we sometimes watched as a family.

It’s hard for me to admit how much I dislike Janeway now. It’s interesting the number of things that I had to endure to get me to the point of stating how awful she is – religious/philosophy studies, ethical ideals, finally putting a name to my PTSD and getting away from abuse, etc. It’s really hard to stomach from an intersectional feminist point of view, too, that Janeway would be so dismissive of a fellow female.

It’s not unlike our current political fun. Slightly off-topic, but this week alone several of the anti-Trump groups have perpetuated stigmas against us disabled and chronically ill people. Because they have degrees, they assume they’re knowledgeable in marginalization and don’t think they’re doing anything wrong (or, on the flipside, some don’t care).

What we really need – us anti-Trump cripples – is for people to listen. Hear us when we talk about what we are dealing with. Support us and give us a platform to talk about what’s happening, what may happen, and what we can do to avoid the worst of the worst.

That’s really not different than what Seven needed – or what I need during PTSD time. It doesn’t seem as though that is something Janeway is capable of providing, at least to Seven.

Have you ever encountered a television show that depicted one of your diagnoses? How did they do? How did this make you feel?

Stepping back a bit

Posted on by Grayson

A few weeks ago, T blocked my calendar. For a whole weekend, I wasn’t allowed to schedule anything.

It was a much-needed wake-up call, even if he claims he did it as a silly gesture.

I do a lot of things:

It’s been a lot to handle, and all but two of those things are unpaid or worse – I pay! And there also isn’t the whole self-care thing on there… I’ve been slacking, and it definitely shows.

I really enjoy everything that I do. There are times, though, where things get a little too hectic. Coming back from New York, I worsened my fibro flare. I tried to keep the same pace I had earlier in the year, and my body couldn’t do it anymore.

Thanks, Facebook!

 

It’s funny, though. I realize I’m a nerd, but hear me out: Spock’s quote from the Wrath of Kahn echoes in my head as I make these trade-offs: “Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” and Kirk adds, “Or the one.”
But my body says…
Thanks, Buzzfeed!
So I’m going to slow down a little bit and focus more on the quality of what I do.
Yay?

 

The Raven

Posted on by Grayson
It’s no secret that T and I are complete nerds. We’re proud of it. Currently, we’re rewatching Star Trek: Voyager. There is a lot I can say about the show, from the sassiness of Captain Janeway to the complexities of being lost in a quadrant of space humans have never seen to the process of helping a former Borg ‘assimilate’ to her human body.
We’re currently watching season four, the season where Seven of Nine appears and we learn more about her backstory.

 

H/T Memory Alpha
As we started watching the episode, Seven begins to have these visions where she sees other Borg coming towards her. Instead of embracing or simply being indifferent, she feels intense fear. Right then, I had my suspicions on what this episode would entail.
Upon heading to sickbay, The Doctor examines her and finds elevated levels of various chemicals in the brain. My suspicions are confirmed and The Doctor informs Captain Janeway and Seven that this is reminiscent of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Side note: flashbacks suck, but I’m glad mine don’t include creepy animals like ravens.

 

H/T Memory Alpha

As these flashbacks continue, Seven begins to act out. Eventually, her Borg hardware starts trying to take over again upon hearing a homing beacon. That homing beacon eventually takes her to the planet that her family’s ship crashed on – The Raven.

During this time period, she has gone through the main stages of PTSD very quickly – flashbacks, hypervigilance/hyperarousal, and being numb like threatening to assimilate others.

H/T Memory Alpha

Quite honestly, this is how it really happens.

Sometimes we get to that realization that we are safe but can’t shut down the memories. Other times, it takes something big to knock us out of the cycle. For Seven, being on the ship did that:

It happened here. This is where it began. This is where I was assimilated. This was our ship. We lived here. We lived here for a long time. My father did experiments. They were very important and we had to travel a long way. I had my birthday here. My cake had six candles on it and… and one more to grow on. And then the men came. Papa tried to fight them, but they were too strong. I tried to hide. Maybe they wouldn’t find me because I was little. But they did. And then Papa said we were going to crash and the big man picked me up and then suddenly, we weren’t on this ship anymore. We were somewhere else. And then I became Borg.

Seven talks often about how difficult it is to interact with other humans. She feels isolated, alone. She doesn’t know how to behave or how to do simple things like eat.

H/T Memory Alpha

It’s not unlike how I’ve felt – having to have my husband show me how to brush my teeth or carry out other simple tasks. There is a shame in that which can keep people from pursuing that learning.

At the end of the episode, Seven escapes. She starts learning more about her humanity, trying to learn about creativity – something Janeway was discussing with her at the beginning of the episode. She says that she will eventually learn more about her parents from the ship’s computer, but isn’t ready yet.

In her own way, Seven’s immediate battle mirrors what many of us living with PTSD go through. At the beginning, we don’t often fully comprehend our flashbacks. They are incomplete or, like Seven’s, not entirely accurate. We don’t understand what is going on with our body and mind.

We don’t get what we’re feeling.

Like Seven, it takes someone telling us that we’re okay. In the immediate situation, Tuvok was able to help bring her out of the attack and work on getting to physical – and emotional – safety. Once back on the ship, The Doctor, Janeway, and others work with Seven to help her grow, to feel safe.

H/T Giphy

I never thought that I could identify with one of the Borg, but damn. There is some irony in the fact that I’ve said T is similar to Tuvok in the past as well.

I’m not sure there’s a point to this post, except to point out how expertly PTSD has been shown in Star Trek: Voyager.

Other pieces on the subject or this episode:
Seven Of Nine: Posterchild For Childhood Abuse & Recovery?
The Raven (Memory Alpha)

The Dark Knight Rises

Posted on by Grayson

As I write this, I’m enjoying The Dark Knight Rises, by far my favorite Batman movie. I’ve written a little before about how Batman is such a great metaphor for fighting our illnesses, and this movie just proves the idea further.

Towards the end, Bruce is stuck into a pit – a jail supposed to be in a Middle Eastern country that no one can escape due to the nature of it being a pit. People can make the climb with a rope to hold them while they fail and fall back down into the pit.

It’s not ideal for anyone to escape, let alone Bruce in the state he arrives to the pit in. His body is broken literally, with vertebrae sticking out of his back. Other bones are broken and cartilage is missing from his knees and elsewhere.

He tries a number of times and fails, until a doctor gives him the advice that he must fear death again. In order to do this, he must climb without the rope – meaning if he fails, he will perish.

Bruce accomplishes his task, doing all of this while training his body to do this.

Eventually he makes it back to Gotham, fighting Bane who he eventually does incapacitate, leading to this great line from Bane: “I broke you. How have you come back?”

The whole exchange between Bane and Bruce/Batman is not unlike that I’ve had with my illnesses. I have fought hard, exhausting myself against something I cannot beat. I have been broken and down, having to learn how to do things all over again and – once again – starting PT with the very basics. I have climbed out of my own jail pit and returned stronger to fight my foe.

That doesn’t mean I always have a Batman mentality with these illnesses. Sometimes, with my anxiety, depression, and PTSD especially, I hear the negatives about myself. I tell myself how horrid I am, how unworthy I am of the things I’ve participated in. My mental health issues convince me that they are the necessary evil, that they like Bane are here to liberate me from believing in false idols.

It’s amazing the parallels one can find with Batman stories and our illnesses.

Here are a few of the others quotes from this particular film that resonated with me:

Bruce Wayne: Why didn’t you just… kill me?
Bane: You don’t fear death… You welcome it. Your punishment must be more severe.
Bruce Wayne: Torture?
Bane: Yes. But not of your body… Of your soul.
Bruce Wayne: Where am I?
Bane: Home, where I learned the truth about despair, as will you. There’s a reason why this prison is the worst hell on earth… Hope. Every man who has ventured here over the centuries has looked up to the light and imagined climbing to freedom. So easy… So simple… And like shipwrecked men turning to sea water from uncontrollable thirst, many have died trying. I learned here that there can be no true despair without hope. So, as I terrorize Gotham, I will feed its people hope to poison their souls. I will let them believe they can survive so that you can watch them clamoring over each other to “stay in the sun.” You can watch me torture an entire city and when you have truly understood the depth of your failure, we will fulfill Ra’s al Ghul’s destiny… We will destroy Gotham and then, when it is done and Gotham is ashes, then you have my permission to die

Bane: Ah, yes… I was wondering what would break first… Your spirit, or your body?

John Blake/Robin: Not a lot of people know what it feels like to be angry, in your bones. I mean, they understand, foster parents, everybody understands, for awhile. Then they want the angry little kid to do something he knows he can’t do, move on. So after awhile they stop understanding. They send the angry kid to a boys home. I figured it out too late. You gotta learn to hide the anger, practice smiling in the mirror. It’s like putting on a mask.

Wacky Wednesdays: fandoms & chronic illness

Posted on by Grayson
Fandoms can play a huge role in how we approach our lives. They can give us motivation or the will to push through the hard times, commiseration and consolation, or help us celebrate and laugh. They are also wonderful for figuring out how to express ourselves in unspoken or unrevealing ways to the right people.
Even if you don’t know what a fandom is, you’re likely a part of more than one yourself. Are you a Trekkie who named your son after your favorite captain? Would you enjoy a visit to the danger zone? Are you always ready to run in case you encounter a mysterious person with a blue phone box? Is part of you still waiting for your acceptance letter to Hogwarts? Would your dream job be working at the Ministry of Silly Walks?

No matter the fandoms you’re a part of, you no doubt agree that they can influence our lives from the type of clothing we wear to our kitchen gadgets and bumper stickers to how we act towards other beings.

When I’m not feeling well, I reach for shows and movies (and music, but that’s for a different day!) that I know will cheer me up or guide me through things. With Netflix, DVRs, Hulu, and other technology, we can so readily have these wonderful films and shows at our fingertips.

For much of my life, I’ve identified with Batman.

I believe that a lot of that stems from feelings of abandonment and neglect. I’m not an orphan, but growing up it sure was easy to feel that way. Batman uses his anger and his frustration for good instead of taking the easy way out and harming others for the hell of it. He struggled with his inner demons, his emotions, and his grief.

As I grew older and time passed, I became very interested in the Harry Potter series. I’m sure that it has to do with the same reasoning.

I was praised as a child for being smart, but then picked on for being naive. There were many similar experiences – and that’s just at home. When I went back to school, it got even worse. Harry’s story, not dissimilar to Batman’s, finds an abused child with some issues saving his friends and protecting others. Not only is he able to make friends, which was a comfort to me reading the fourth book the summer before returning to school, but he’s able to stand up to institutionalized norms that don’t make sense or refuse to deal with reality. Honestly that helps to fuel some of my patient advocacy work.

Harry’s family situation continues to comfort me. There are two terms that I’ve used in the past to describe my family issues – family of origin (FOO) and family of choice (FOC). Harry’s FOO would be the Durleys just as mine wasn’t the best. There was a long time where, like Harry, I did most of the things around the house from laundry to cooking to cleaning at a very young age. You get no say in your FOO, and that can be really hard. Your FOC on the other hand is all based on choice. It can definitely include people in your FOO – I like to imagine Harry reconnected with his cousin after the final battle in the book. My sister would be that person for me. My FOC includes so many amazing people (and many of YOU!). It wasn’t until really going through the HP films after they’d all come out that I really understood those terms.

HP got me through a lot of hard times. I knew that I could make it because he did. I won’t pretend like I can save the world as he does, but I know that I can make an impact. I also know that the impact I have will be greater with my loved ones around me to help. HP encourages me to keep going, to keep pushing, even if I don’t feel like it. To make that reminder even more permanent, I got a tattoo referencing the stars from the pages of the HP books. They help serve as a reminder of the tough things that HP and I both went through – that things really did happen. They also help me remember that I’m writing the pages of my book right now. In May of last year, I finished a hard chapter and turned the page.

I could write about Doctor Who, but I just don’t have the words. There is so much out there on DW and philosophy and I feel ill prepared to tackle that at the moment.

Being chronically ill can be so isolating. We often feel like we don’t participate well in ‘real’ life because we aren’t as healthy in body or mind which puts certain limitations on us. I don’t have much of a social life where I live because I’m often low on spoons and/or just ready to go home and not deal with other people at the end of my work day. Sometimes it’s because I get sick so easily that I worry about going places at the height of flu/cold/etc seasons.

One of the nice things about fandoms is that no one judges you for spending a whole weekend binge watching episodes of shows on Netflix while hanging out in your PJs, eating Ben & Jerry’s or other horribly unhealthy comfort food, and not getting much sleep.

No one judges you for devouring a book and ignoring ‘real’ life because that book was too good to put down. No one judges you for playing zombie video games from the minute you wake up to the minute you go to sleep.

Most importantly, there are no requirements to fandoms. You can like Orphan Black even if you’re not a clone. You can enjoy traveling the ‘verse with Mal and the Firefly gang without having an orange hat. You can even find joy in leaping with Spiderman from building to building or fighting baddies with Batman despite the fact that you can’t walk.

There *is* a problem with representation though. Disabled people in fandoms generally are the ones in a victim role or have magically overcome their disability in a way to be a hero.

It’s not representative of real life. You could argue that it doesn’t always need to be, especially as fandoms are often very out there, but some more accurate representation would be nice.

I asked my friend Felix Quinn to write a piece on fandoms as well:

Fandoms as a whole can be a therapeutic thing for people who feel isolated and trapped by their illnesses. For me, they have given me a platform to speak without being cut off due to someone believing I didn’t have it in me to connect dots, etc. My favorite fandoms to participate in are In The Flesh and Steven Universe. But to keep this short, I’ll stick to talking about ITF.

The “In The Flesh” fandom is extraordinarily open about exchanging ideas that would typically (in the mainstream fandoms) be shot down without a second glance. When a show focuses around characters that have to medicate daily in order to function within their realities, it’s going to draw in a certain group. And that group has be amazingly comforting, accepting that we all view this one small piece of media in a different way. And all these conglomerations are right. There is no wrong answer with them, and that’s why I’ve enjoyed participating so much. There is no pretentiousness, no “fandom famous” blogs. It is incredibly accessible to all who want to participate.

The ITF fandom has helped me see it is okay to be comfortable with who I am, and how I am. I think, especially with chronic illnesses that tend to get worse instead of better, there are parts of us that feed into the ableistic idea that, naturally, we are monsters. We are flawed. And for that, we should resign ourselves to a quiet life where our interactions with others are kept to a minimum. To view a piece of media that tells us otherwise about anyone who dares to venture from societies view of “acceptable”, brings people together who feel quite the same. I am very thankful for the small fandom and the beautifully diverse and sometimes complicated conversations that take place. I am thankful, even if I am quiet now and again.

Darth-ritis

Posted on by Grayson

Earlier today, I was working on some future blog posts and the fiance turned to me and said that he sometimes sees me as Yoda helping people fight ‘the Darthritis.’

Badass, I am

At first, I just thought it was hilarious and I was also pretty disappointed that other people hadn’t thought that up yet. Seriously.

But then I actually started thinking about it. If you haven’t seen Star Wars (seriously, how are you alive at this point?), note that the rest of this contains spoilers.

Okay, so we all know that Luke goes through a lot of film roll thinking that Vader is an outside being unrelated to him – only to find that it is a part of him gone horribly wrong.

It’s not unlike how people believe they have a cancer or mono or some other ailment until they find out they have a malfunctioning immune system… which leads me to my next point.

The white blood cells control the immune response and are the weapons used against invading viruses and bacteria… like the Stormtroopers fight the rebels!

We heard you guys had some in-vaders.

The Millennium Falcon could be likened to the meds we take – their release mechanisms and effects on our bodies.

Every Luke needs a Yoda to sift through the information, to mentor us and to show us the ways of the rheumy force. Anyone could be your Yoda – your awesome doctor or nurse, your cousin, or a stranger you never even met. Together with their support/training and the support of your fellow ‘rebels’ I have no doubt that someday our bodies will decide to help us knock the evil Emperor Palpatine into the never-ending tunnel of despair.

Do it man!

Now that I’ve stretched this comparison probably as far as it should go, I leave you with my arch-nemesis – Darth Ritis.

 

Why every couple dealing with illness needs to read The Time Traveler’s Wife

Posted on by Grayson

And no, I don’t mean see that movie. The movie is horrible and leaves out the best parts of the book and, dammit it all, Eric Bana is not Henry DeTamble. He’s just not. /rant/

This was the first book I ever read at the suggestion of the boyfriend. I read it not too long after we started dating, and he read it not too long before that. I decided now that I’m done with WAAD things, I could focus more on reading through my vast library of crap… but I really wanted to read this again before I did all that.

The Time Traveler’s Wife is a novel by Audrey Niffenegger that came out in 2003. The story centers around the relationship of Claire, who has grown up very well to-do despite some oddness, and Henry, who is kind of the cause of the oddness. Henry has a genetic malfunction that causes him to time travel randomly, without control of when or where he goes. He meets Claire while time traveling when he is in his late thirties and she is 6 despite a real-time age difference of only eight years. Claire grows up waiting for him to visit, falling in love with him before tracking him down finally in real-time when she is around 20. The book is written from the point of view of both of them, giving a sneak peek of how it feels to be in each person’s shoes.

And this is what makes the book important.

It is so easy to forget how hard it is to be the sick person or to be the normal person in our relationships. Sometimes we need a reminder. Our reminder might not be as bad as hearing about our ill loved one returning to the night his mother died, or being the person always living in a disjointed, separate world. Thankfully, we don’t have to go through the realities of this relationship. But we do need reminders on the realities of our own. For me at least, this book helps with that.

Claire is always waiting for Henry, always worried about Henry – where has he traveled now? When will he come back? Will he be around for their wedding? Will he be able to be there when she needs him the most? How does she explain his absences, sometimes very sudden, or his changes in appearance (aka which age Henry it is) to friends and family? Will she be able to handle family life virtually on her own without someone dependable there? Are the moments of happiness worth the hours and days of waiting and worry?

Henry is always somewhere else. Even when he is around, he deals with depression from his mother’s death or issues speaking with his father. He keeps running into himself, keeps revisiting days. He has to lie to people so they don’t know what is going on with him. He even lies to Claire, past and ‘present.’ He does not want to be a worry, to be a burden on her. He sees how his illness impacts what they do and he hates it. He wishes he was normal so badly. He can’t even drive because that is too dangerous.

Despite their relationship, the two of them are isolated so much from each other. Sometimes that difference is physio-spacial and sometimes it is emotional. There is nowhere else that this is more true than in a relationship with an illness that makes a minute seem like hours of agony.

And now after all that, here are some of my favorite quotes from the book along with pictures of me with quotes:

“Don’t you think it’s better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?”

“I won’t ever leave you, even though you’re always leaving me.”

“I wish for a moment that time would lift me out of this day, and into some more benign one. But then I feel guilty for wanting to avoid the sadness.”

“But you make me happy. It’s living up to being happy that’s the difficult part.”

“I’m living under water. Everything seems slow and far away. I know there’s a world up there, a sunlit world where time runs like dry sand through an hourglass, but down here, where I am, air and sound and time and feeling are thick and dense.”

“I sometimes end up in dangerous situations, and I come back to you broken and messed up, and you worry about me when I’m gone. It’s like marrying a policeman.”

“The hardest lesson is Claire’s solitude. Sometimes I come home and Claire seems kind of irritated; I’ve interrupted some train of thought, broken into the dreary silence of her day. Sometimes I see an expression on Claire’s face that is like a closed door. She has gone inside the room of her mind and is sitting there knitting or something. I’ve discovered that Claire likes to be alone. But when I return from time traveling she is always relieved to see me.”

“The pain has left but I know that it has not gone far, that it is sulking somewhere in a corner or under the bed and it will jump out when I least expect it.”

“I still feel like a castaway, the last of a once numerous species. It was as though Robinson Crusoe discovered the telltale footprint on the beach and then realized that it was his own. Myself, small as a leaf, thin as water, begins to cry.”

“The cure might be worse than the problem.”