living life in fiction

I have struggled a great deal with my own mental health. I don't know if depression is genetic; I'm pretty sure neuroses are. There are things I catch myself doing where I suddenly realize I'm trying to control a situation that I absolutely have no control over, which is most of them. It's such a falsehood that we're in control of our own lives. I remember advertisements for something, "Control your destiny..." use this product, whatever, whatever. I have been trying to let go, trying to allow things to happen, trying to allow myself to feel. Recently my therapist asked, "How do you feel about Michelle being gone?" I answered honestly, "I don't know" to which he responded, "That's fantastic. It means you're actually allowing yourself to just feel something without attaching definitions, predetermined outcomes, and meaning to the emotion."

Not knowing can sometimes be a good thing, I guess.

I've had an old friend visiting from out of town the past few days and conversations with her (all about her, of course) have given me clarity about my own patterns of thought and my own psychology. And I realize that while I'm still pretty screwed up, I am aware of it and I am trying to be ethical and healthy. Reading the psychoanalysis stuff this summer really gave me some things to think about it terms of creating an ethical relationship.

Last night, we went to see The Night Listener which I'd kind of been excited to see. It was interesting. I guess having read the book and knowing about the case on which its based sort of made it feel surreal. It wasn't a very long film, just a half hour over the one hour slot the main character's radio show would take. Toni Colette was fabulous as usual; she makes a creepy character sympathetic. I actually felt empathy for Robin Williams' character. He is so distrustful of the connections in his life that his search for "truth" makes you ache. The narrative style of the film revolves around the radio show of the main character, which frames the film in a way that makes the strange and eerie storyline make sense. I love the lines at the beginning

As a storyteller I've spent years living my life in fiction. Like a magpie, I tend to steal the shiny stuff...discard the rest. The fact can always be altered to tell the story, but this time I have to be careful. I'll lay out the events exactly as I remember them. I want you to believe them after all, which will be hard as it is.



I appreciate the depth in those lines, especially since I finished a draft of my autobiography which was about trying to tell a story outside of the fiction that had been constructed and reconstructed. I tried to record the discarded; I don't know yet if it worked or not.