Tuesday, August 5, 2014

An Absurd Little Bird

We just finished watching Mental.

I liked it. I didn't love it.

I loved The Sound of Music parts, probably because I love The Sound of Music.

I loved the guy playing the guitar.

I loved Toni Collette's speech about the secret history of Australia. 

That's the cover story, yeah, but historically where have they always sent the loonies? As far away as possible. You can't get any further away than Australia. We weren't a penal colony, we was a lunatic asylum. Our ancestors were loonies and this is the result. Have a look around. There's no such thing as normal, there's just different shades of mental. Your totally mental are in the lunatic asylums. The rest of them:the delusionals, the borderlines, compulsives, paranoid, schizoid make up Australia as we know it. We're nothing but a living experiment in madness under constant observation by the psychiatric community of the world.

I like that. But no. Australia isn't special.

I think we're all mental. It's not mentally ill vs. healthy. Nope. It's slightly mental, moderately mental, severally mental, and as said above...totally mental. And each of us can jump back and forth into different categories. Usually, I'm slightly mental, but every so often I become moderately mental. And I've had some days where I probably classify as severally mental. I haven't yet gone totally mental, but I don't doubt that I could be driven to that point.

As for the reason I liked the movie rather than loved it: I thought there were aspects that were mean-spirited. Which makes me worry I'm too uptight. Which then leads me to having an inferiority complex.

Seriously, though. I felt sometimes the movie was saying certain types of mental are okay—cute and sympathetic, but we hate these other types of mental. And I guess that's fair in some way. It might be easier to be sympathetic towards a schizophrenic or bipolar person than a sadistic or narcissistic person.

There were scenes, though, regarding an OCD woman and her anorexic daughter. And yes. The woman was a bitch. And I guess if you have a bitchy OCD woman, it might be funny for some to see her dealing with people dirtying her house.

I'm not against making fun of people with OCD. If we say you can't make fun of mental problems and we're all mental, then it's pretty much saying we need to stop with comedy all together.

But I do think some comedy is more mean-spirited than others.

Or maybe it was less about OCD being funny or not funny, and more like they made OCD a villainous quality. You like a clean house, so you're bad. And we're going to put you in your place by making your house dirty.

One of my mental issues is, I have a phobia of vomit. It's moderate, not severe. And I do think it can be funny. I don't think I'd mind if people laughed about it, or joked about it. What does bother me is when certain people act exasperated by it. They don't seem at all understanding or sympathetic. Their attitude makes me feel like I'm a villain. I'm that bitchy girl who can't handle vomit.  Well, actually I do okay handling it. I do what needs to be done. Then afterwards I completely freak out. And I think I get a sort of version of post-traumatic stress disorder.

So if I'm with you and you want me to hold your hair back when you throw up, I might do that. I'll act sweet. I'll act helpful.  I'll act like I'm fine. Then afterwards, I'll take like five showers, throw away the clothes I was wearing when holding your hair, and for months I'll avoid the bathroom where your vomiting took place.

Yep. That's my mental. And I have more. But we can talk about that another day.


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