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Watched the film Precious this past weekend and I was all prepared with kleenex as I’d heard it was quite the tear-jerker … but what I hadn’t been prepared for was how it would tear my guts apart. I mean, no, I was never quite that obese as a child and my family life wasn’t quite as violent, and instead of being told I was stupid I was told I was selfish and BAD (knowing I was far from stupid was the only thing that kept me sane), but there were enough similarities there to drag me through a whole hellish trip down memory lane. And although most of those memories are emotional ones – I probably only have about 10% actual recall – they remain very strong memories indeed.
Some differences: I didn’t end up pregnant and I left home when I was 15, though I did end up going to an alternative highschool when it became clear that I wasn’t fitting into The System. That was my choice and I’m really glad I did that or I probably wouldn’t have finished school.
I’d rather not talk about the similarities, other than this one: in the film the girl called Precious is always drifting into fantasies when awful things happen to her and I swear I spent almost my entire childhood “somewhere else” that felt safer and where I could imagine I was somebody special and loved. And there is a scene in the film when Precious is asked to talk about her life in class (at the alternative school) and when she is finally able to do so and is asked how that made her feel she says “Here. It made me feel Here”. I could hear that capital H and, well, I crumpled up at that point because I knew exactly what she meant and also thought how lucky she was to have got there so much sooner in her life than I did. Because although the fantasies became less frequent – and less “out there” – I found other ways of not being here, which I know held me back and kept me from doing more with my life. In fact, it probably wasn’t until I got cancer that I started to really pay attention and stay in the moment, mostly because most everything else ceased to matter. What a way to grow up.
But I am Here now … well, most of the time anyway.
And I do think I’d like to stay awhile.
casa azahar 
And I, at least, want you to stay for a while longer as well.
I’m one of the lucky ones, I had a safe childhood so I remember lots. Unlike a brother – – –
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Oh, az. This pulls at my heart. I hate to think of young you being treated so badly by your own family. Or any child, for that matter. I’m so glad you got out when you did, and found a place to allow you to grow and become who you are now. Now you must surely be confident that you are both special and loved, because you are!
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I’ve wanted to see this. What particularly offended me in the post-Oscars hoopla was all the disgusting comments about the actress playing Precious.
Yes… She’s fat… so was the character… that doesn’t mean the actress didn’t have talent and didn’t deserve the Oscar for her performance. And as for those nonsensical opinions that because she was fat, she shouldn’t be “rewarded for being fat”…. Maybe we should stop awarding prizes because the recipient was “fat” or “ugly” or “skinny” as some sort of punishment for “choosing” not to “fix themselves up” (that last one would stop 90 percent of Hollywood actresses…). And who decides who deserves to receive an award handed out for their talent because they don’t stand up to certain peoples’ pinheadedly skewed criteria?
I was watching something last night where girls ages 10, I think, and all of them of non-white ethnic backgrounds, were to look at a table full of photos of women of various ethnic backgrounds and sizes, some just posing and some posing with objects.
Every single one of the girls (all tested by themselves, not as a group) picked one or both of two images. Both white women and thin. One woman had a cellphone and what the kids described as a “sassy look” and the other had shopping bags. This was their ideal.
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Ouch
At the time, I didn’t think of my childhood as particularly happy – but that was mainly because I didn’t get my way all of the time!
We don’t actually know each other – but I like what I do know, as far as I can see you’ve done a pretty good job unscrewing what someone else had screwed up.
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What bigbadjohnnyp said 🙂
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I also don’t know you, except as you come across here. And you come across as someone who is becoming progressively more fearless (hospital on your own); you seem to have a lot of people in your life who care about you (people don’t tend to care about selfish, bad individuals). I really admire the way you’ve handled your life over the couple of years I’ve been reading your blog, not just the cancer but the work situation. It’s been great reading how it’s all been coming together over the last few months and you should be justly proud of yourself.
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Thanks for your comments, guys. I think a turning point for me was when I realised – and accepted – that this was never going to “go away” and I was never going to “get over it”. Which isn’t to say that I wallow (or at least I haven’t since I was a teenager – I was a first-class wallower back then), and in fact, accepting what happened and the effects made it easier for me to move forward, step by step. It’s like having any sort of handicap – you learn to live with, and make the most of, what you’ve got, rather than moan about what’s not there. (ie you’ve never been loved)
Maybe that’s why I never asked “why me?” when I got cancer. Because I’d already accepted that shit happens and the best thing to do is try and get on with things.
Recently a “friend” (now an ex-friend) made light of my trust issues and basically gave me an ultimatum to “get over it” or piss off. And THEN said they’d had enough of me, thanks for all the fish and adiós. And it’s stuff like this that really sticks in my craw. I mean, I don’t care if someone likes me or not, or even if they like me but have issues or problems with certain aspects about me … as long as these things are open to discussion. I know some people have had problems with me having cancer, and most of the time this has been something I can also understand and accept. But those who judge and sentence and then shut all doors of communication … well basically, fuck them. This used to be hurtful but now, instead of internalising this sort of shit, I talk about it, though without naming names as most of you know the people I am talking about. And I say shame on them.
The work situation right now feels like such a big accomplishment … starting up again from nothing and (very slowly) getting back on my feet. It seems being a stubborn old boot pays off sometimes! The very idea that I am actually going to be paid for a lot of my recent online time is quite exhilarating.
Re: the film. If you watch it, be careful to notice the main point. That if you browbeat and abuse a child from birth and convince them that they are worthless, then they WILL believe you … until they don’t anymore. Because we all have that survival spark within us and it sometimes burns brightest when it feels like there is nothing left. What my parents called Selfish and Bad was me fighting back, demanding to be heard, demanding to be loved, dammit. They never did either and also did a lot worse. I still wake up every day feeling afraid and “scanning for danger”. At 53 3/4 years old. I still try to find ways of escaping, but mostly find solace in my new busy routine. And my cats. And Nog. That guy has really been with me through thick and thin and, although he drives me to distraction at times, he’s one of the few people I know I can count on.
And for all of you who had safe and happy childhoods – I really am happy for you! And I quite enjoy being around people like you, because you know what feeling safe is like and often project it, and so I bask in the warmth of your happy fire.
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Hmmm . . . “if you browbeat and abuse a child from birth and convince them that they are worthless, then they WILL believe you ” fortunately I have no way of knowing the truth of that so intimately.
However, I don’t think that my children are in any danger of believing that they are not loved or are in any sense worthless. That is not to say that everything they do is right, or praiseworthy etc, but they both know that there are two people (at least) who would fight to their last breath to prevent harm coming to them.
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