anti-repressed
February 2, 2010I thought one of the reasons that I’m able to function is because I don’t repress too much. I’ll cry in public (daily), and talk about Clark when anyone asks. I’m not afraid to bring him up. If someone asks me how I’m doing, and if that day I’m not doing so well, I am not afraid to say so. I realized over the past two weeks, though, that I still haven’t been letting everything out. Last Saturday, Lauren brought me home after I’d put away a few beers and I cried big, gulping sobs on her couch for a few hours and said a lot of things I’d been afraid to say out loud. Once I formed the words, they didn’t seem so scary or ridiculous, especially since I had someone nodding in agreement that yes, these thoughts are legitimate and no, I am not insane.
This past weekend, my videographer friend Liz was shooting footage for her new project, “A Drunk History of Love.” You’d start the interview out sober, and over the course of 40 or so minutes, you’d get drunk. She interviewed couples, those who didn’t believe in love, single people, and me. I drank an entire bottle of champagne in about 20 minutes and released a ton of gunky stuff that’d been clogging my brain for the past seven months. Liz was filming, and couldn’t stop crying, so her friend Matt who was helping her asked the questions. I told this stranger, and the video camera, a ton of private and funny and sweet stories about our struggle and relationship, and it felt great. She’s going to edit all of our stories into a short film, and give me a copy of my audio.
