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MOAR MEDIA CONSUMPTION AHOY.
So in keeping with the idea of clearing out my Netflix queue, instead of leaping right into season 6 of SVU after wrapping up #5, I decided to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind instead. It was a rough two hours for all of the obvious reasons, but I knew it was gonna be before I watched it (which is why it's been sitting on my queue for so long). Indeed, there was a time or two when I was all "you know what, I can't deal with this movie right now, I'm gonna turn it off." But I didn't. I finished it. And you know? it was a damn good movie and I'm glad I did even if it meant a moment or two of shoving through some massive personal squick&trigger.
Completely aside from the plot of the movie (I think going into a discussion of OMG THIS MOVIE IS TOTES RELATIVE TO MAI LYF! would be laughably redundant, so all I'll say is that Clementine would be me if I had more balls), its got me thinking again about myself and my cheesecloth boundary problem... and how 90% of the time, the person chronically violating my boundaries is me. I'm constantly making myself march through what feels like my own DMZ for reasons of which I'm becoming increasingly dubious. I suppose it doesn't help that these experiences often lead to a positive experience that may not have been had previously (the movie, for example) or at the very least a level of grim, spiteful satisfaction that I made it through whatever it was. I can think of quite a few examples where I was all "that sucked for me like fuck but I did it," (case in point, paragraph 1), as if I then expect the universe to pin a giant medal to my butt or something. Gold star for effort! Yeah-huh.
I think it was![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bellarisa that once asked me why I was competing for the non-existent pair of gilded Big Girl Panties when all it was doing was hurting me. I've got no real explanation for why. The only things I can think of is the massive irrational need to not be thought of as a wuss or a drama queen (not that I've done all that great of a job avoiding the latter label). But under that is still a nasty little voice that likes nothing more than to tell me that my emotions, boundaries, comfort and mental well-being are basically worthless and stupid and any energy spent on enforcing/validating them is wasted.
Yeah about that. *sigh* Man, I hate the days when I have to sit and DEAL with the fact that I'm a lot more fucked up than I care to admit most of the time. At the same time I often wonder why I spend so much time and energy caring about that fact. Yes, okay, I've got enough issues to give your grandparents' 30 year collection of National Geographic a run for its money. But so does everyone else if you dig hard enough. Why do I care so much about people seeing mine? Oh yeah, that whole "you're 32 and fail at life" thing.
Feh. I'ma go get ready for game or something now.
So in keeping with the idea of clearing out my Netflix queue, instead of leaping right into season 6 of SVU after wrapping up #5, I decided to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind instead. It was a rough two hours for all of the obvious reasons, but I knew it was gonna be before I watched it (which is why it's been sitting on my queue for so long). Indeed, there was a time or two when I was all "you know what, I can't deal with this movie right now, I'm gonna turn it off." But I didn't. I finished it. And you know? it was a damn good movie and I'm glad I did even if it meant a moment or two of shoving through some massive personal squick&trigger.
Completely aside from the plot of the movie (I think going into a discussion of OMG THIS MOVIE IS TOTES RELATIVE TO MAI LYF! would be laughably redundant, so all I'll say is that Clementine would be me if I had more balls), its got me thinking again about myself and my cheesecloth boundary problem... and how 90% of the time, the person chronically violating my boundaries is me. I'm constantly making myself march through what feels like my own DMZ for reasons of which I'm becoming increasingly dubious. I suppose it doesn't help that these experiences often lead to a positive experience that may not have been had previously (the movie, for example) or at the very least a level of grim, spiteful satisfaction that I made it through whatever it was. I can think of quite a few examples where I was all "that sucked for me like fuck but I did it," (case in point, paragraph 1), as if I then expect the universe to pin a giant medal to my butt or something. Gold star for effort! Yeah-huh.
I think it was
bellarisa that once asked me why I was competing for the non-existent pair of gilded Big Girl Panties when all it was doing was hurting me. I've got no real explanation for why. The only things I can think of is the massive irrational need to not be thought of as a wuss or a drama queen (not that I've done all that great of a job avoiding the latter label). But under that is still a nasty little voice that likes nothing more than to tell me that my emotions, boundaries, comfort and mental well-being are basically worthless and stupid and any energy spent on enforcing/validating them is wasted. Yeah about that. *sigh* Man, I hate the days when I have to sit and DEAL with the fact that I'm a lot more fucked up than I care to admit most of the time. At the same time I often wonder why I spend so much time and energy caring about that fact. Yes, okay, I've got enough issues to give your grandparents' 30 year collection of National Geographic a run for its money. But so does everyone else if you dig hard enough. Why do I care so much about people seeing mine? Oh yeah, that whole "you're 32 and fail at life" thing.
Feh. I'ma go get ready for game or something now.
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no subject
Date: 2010-12-02 11:22 pm (UTC)From:I hope to be transferring my membership in June...
As for Gilding on your big girl panties... Gilding makes everyone's butts look bigger!
(which would be one way to get a giant butt medal)
no subject
Date: 2010-12-03 04:47 pm (UTC)From: