It’s amazing how frequently “I told myself no” turns into “look what I just did!!”. I get it, I really do – impulsiveness is a pretty common trait in directionless twentysomethings, and at least mine is pretty harmless. Except when it leads places. Like my current crisis – facing one of my great character flaws at the same time my life is going to pieces like it does every December.
In this case, the “I told myself no” act is watching emotionally compromising TV the week of IFTS. I’m not even gonna try to explain what that is because it’s a complicated nightmare of a thing, but the relevant details are that it’s a three-day charity sale during which I will have to tangle with almost everyone I have ever met in the Cincinnati area. Srsly. It’s practically tradition that someone I’m quite cool with not having seen in at least five years will turn up, and inevitably they will be in my line (I run a cash register for the whole thing because it’s a good reason to mark off work for three days and because I’m apparently way competent at rewiring that system) and inevitably they will realize they know me and it’s awkward at best. It’s also tradition that I will side-eye the heck out of various inevitability couples, small children, and… really everyone. I’m not a good person. IFTS brings out a lot of that.
So, the emotionally compromising TV thing. Last year was an accident. Last year involved something I was keeping up with at the time, and the ep that aired that week included (among other things) one of my favorites shooting her romantic partner in self-defense, the beautiful phenomenon of Promo Death Bait, and cannibalism set to the one Christmas carol I don’t actively hate. Really, there was no way I could’ve called that one, and yeah watching it on the first day of IFTS was a bad life choice but it was also a “I need to know what happened so I can appropriately deal with people in the tags” life choice. And an important lesson (or so I thought). Do not watch anything that will complicate my headspace during IFTS week. I repeated that on occasion over the entire last week, and I was doing So Well, and then last week happened and apparently I like shooting myself in the foot.
Honestly, I blame my friend Liv for this. Liv has been around for long enough to know what I’m into, and if she tells me I ought to watch something, she’s usually got a point. Current example – Jessica Jones, which I really didn’t plan on watching because… well, I got burnt out on superhero stuff. Not my angle at the moment. But Liv knows me better than I know myself, and she said it’s one of those weirdly cathartic shows, so I figured “okay, what the hell”. Never have I been so unprepared.
Yeah, the premise is intense (do your own research on that one because I can’t say anything here that hasn’t been said better by about half the internet, but basically the entire plot of the show is the title character dealing with Serious Issues and the show handles it spectacularly). I can deal with intense. I am not easily emotionally affected by things, and my thoughts on overall plot details amounted to “that’s pretty badass but not gonna do anything to me”. The subplot none of my darlings thought to warn me about, on the other hand… not so much.
Short and non-spoilery version – title character Jessica is an avid practitioner of about every slightly destructive coping mech one could ever think of, but one of her best is emotionally shutting herself off from everyone who even tries to take up space in her life. Everyone. Best friend, concerned neighbor, person she’s kinda in love with, everyone. And that hit me somewhere around ep 4 and it felt familiar in a way that very little in anything I’ve watched ever has. It hurt, because I know how that is, because I do that. And like most of my issues, and like the fictional darling who caused this personal crisis, I’m great at pretending I don’t. I’m great at pretending everything is fine, even when that’s total bullshit. I don’t let people in because I’m scared of what they might do to me if I give them space to wound. And then I lie to myself about it because what if I really am better off like this?
(I’m not. No one ever is.)
For me, media is best when it’s cathartic. Best when I’m forced to face my issues head-on and reassured that they won’t be the end of me. Because that’s the other thing that hit me about Jessica Jones – for being as dark a show as it is (and believe me, that’s an understatement at times), the ultimate message is surprisingly hopeful. “Yes, these things are real. Yes, they almost always happen to the undeserving. Yes, they leave scars. But it’s not the end of you. People can still want you despite your tragedies. You don’t have to be alone. You don’t deserve to be alone.”
Pretty good territory for a show about a woman on one of the most justified revenge quests in fictional history.
Just, y’know… maybe not the best timing for me to be watching it. But I’m a solid believer in the idea that I find stuff when I need it, and this one… I’m sure the timing will make sense eventually…
Hurricane Girl Strikes Again 