I’ve had a rough year, man.
In between a couple of nice personal achievements and a lovely few days by the sea I have felt myself get buffeted by events over and over again. I have had to keep myself calm through the uncertainty of a health scare, help my fiancé process grief, stay optimistic through illness after illness, and keep on top of my life and as many of my responsibilities as I could as if nothing was ever going wrong. And sitting here, writing all of this eight months in to the year, it feels like time has flown by. Like I haven’t been able to sit down and feel any of it.
That sense of not being able to feel properly has been a bit of a common thread in my life. When my Mum died 15 years ago I trapped the raw pain of seeing her unconscious on our living room floor and refused to let myself feel anything. My Dad had to tell me that it was okay to have emotion, that acting like a Vulcan — we watched Star Trek: Voyager together as my Mum went through chemotherapy — would do more harm than good. But it felt like I would struggle, like I would suffocate, if I let the reality in.
There’s been a bit of my own reality I’ve been struggling to face these last few years, and I saw it right in front of me when I sat down for I Saw The TV Glow. I’ve been reassured over and over again, by friends and loved ones and peers, that it will be okay if I tackle it head-on. I’ve seen those same peers and loved ones thrive as they face up to it, the glow in them, the spring in their step, the sense of ease with themselves they start to show as they look at the unknown and walk towards it. And when the credits rolled, I couldn’t move. I felt uncomfortable, afraid to be seen by the other people in my screening. A little scared. But also strangely hopeful.
When I had my health scare at the start of the year, I sat in a pub with two of my best friends and — mostly because I’d had a few pints — I talked about how the wait for test results terrified me. I started crying and I talked about how hard it would be for Markus, how poorly my extended family had fared in the wake of serious illness, how terrifying it was to look at the worst case and think about how I’d be leaving someone I love behind. I turn 29 this year — I’m going to be 17 years younger than my Mum when she died — and I kept thinking about how much she wanted to do, about how much of her was left unfulfilled and how it would tear me apart if I fell into that same spot.
I know what I need to do. There is still time for me to do it. I’m writing this to hold myself accountable. To take that first big step.
I’m not sure if that makes any sense — especially for you, my little audience who were given the expectation of some Good Links. And I’m sorry I’ve been gone for a while. Like I said, rough year.
If you’re looking for some more cohesive writing on I Saw The TV Glow, I have some spoilerific writing from the lovely Grace Robertson for you. She’s written three posts on her newsletter, but I’d start with There is still time. But how much?
I don’t know when I’ll be back. Hopefully soon. Take care until then.