Escape To Witch Mountain<\/i><\/a>” All I saw were two children running, sillhouetted and animated dogs chasing them. I wondered if the witches on the mountain had made them special. I wondered if they’d gotten witch powers from the animated dogs chasing them. (None of these ideas had anything to do with the movie)<\/p>\nA few years later I saw the film. I was utterly entranced. 2 special children with fantastic super abilities…. 2 outcasts, trying to find their way…. home? I would make up stories about how I was another child lost from the same group. We’d talk about our abilities and we’d help each other.<\/p>\n
When I was 8 or 10 or something…. I stayed at a hotel with my family. There was a ‘jungle gym’ outside one set of hotel rooms. There were two children playing on it. I think they were brother and sister. I played on it as well, but none of us ever spoke. We’d look at each other problingly. I wondered if they were the twins from all my dreams waiting to rescue me back to be with my ‘real’ family.<\/p>\n
We went on with our playing…. Either I or they eventually left. I don’t remember which.<\/p>\n
A few years later I found myself studying theatre, TV, film (Still not 12 or 14) at this point. I figured maybe I could turn my stories into something more than stories. One day I was at my grandparents house staring at the big tree that was no longer climbable in their back yard…. I was writing it into another one of my stories. I was pretending what it would be like to be in a movie of my story. Floating down from one of the high branches. Lifting myself down gently with my telekinesis (which of course, all of us had). I got the mental image of being in a harness, under lights, with cameras, and clappers, and production assisstants…<\/p>\n
I started to cry.<\/p>\n
Something in my head said…. “it wouldn’t be real. It would be faked…It’ll never be real. The closest you’ll get to it..is to manufacture it.”<\/p>\n
\nIt’s a few years later. I’m arguing with my mother. I’m 15. She’s into her standard broken record, “You will not talk to me like that, you are not my equal, you are not my peer…. you are my son, you will always be inferior to me.”<\/p>\n
I’d heard this trip for years. I finally fought back. “I’m not inferior. To you or anyone.”<\/p>\n
She lost it, “How dare you? Why did I even let you fuck up my life? My life was going along fine before you came along and ruined everything. I’m sorry I ever had you. You’re nothing but a mistake that should have been aborted.”<\/p>\n
Over half my life ago, and I can still hear the words. I can play them as if they are off of a digital recording made not 5 minutes ago.<\/p>\n
Today, intellectually; I know this was the angry ranting of a woman who:
\na) didn’t have any idea what she was saying
\nb) dindn’t think before talking
\nc) really needs\/needed help<\/p>\n
At 15, I believed every word. And I crumpled to the floor hysterically. I cried, I screamed, I held my hands over my ear. I punched myelf. It was horrible. I screamed over and over again, “I’m just a mistake”<\/p>\n
And the saddest, sickest part of the whole scene. Was the little voice in my head that I can also still here. The voice that said calmly, “Yeah, I think this is the way we’re supposed to react.” The voice was calm, rational, and logical. It was an inner voice, pulling marionete strings.<\/p>\n
I don’t remember how that ended. I remember that it was one of the last times I cried.<\/p>\n
Since then, I can count the times.
\n1) (1990) when ex-gf “B” told me that I was a liar, and was doing nothing in my spare time but cheating on her. (This was not true)
\n2) (1992) Auditioning for Mozart in ‘Amadeus’. The scene was when Constance Waverly says she’s leaving him forever. I didn’t really act the scene as I’d had the exact same arguement (sans tears) with ex-gf “R” the day before
\n3) (2002) Confessing to one of my closest friends in February that I’d not sociallized or left the house (save work) in 5 months because I was afraid of screwing up someone else’s life. And admitted it to me.<\/p>\n
\nIt bugs\/troubles me that I don’t\/can’t cry when I want to. I’m a big softy for movie\/play mush. I have one show I love that always makes me get all choed up in the last five minutes. No tears.<\/p>\n
I got dumeped in Mexico while on vacation. I was angry, hurt, confused, upset….no tears.<\/p>\n
I went to MIB:II Sunday night. I went alone as I’ve been thoroughly unable to find anyone who wants to go to a movie with me. i hate going ‘out’ alone. I get very self conscious. I feel like people are looking at me and either laughing or pitying the ‘loser’ who can’t even get a date for a movie.<\/p>\n
I explained to my Shrink on Monday about my now-ex gf and the movie. I said, “I’m not sure if it was because I was moody from going alone, or if the movie actually sucked, or if I was just hyper analyzing.<\/p>\n
He looked at me and told me that I should go with the first thought that pops in and stop trying to analyze the rest.<\/p>\n
This appointment was quite painful. (No tears)<\/p>\n
So.. here I am. I’m afraid to really ‘like’ anyone because I feel like all that does in my life is push them away. I seem to emith this “He likes me” wave that really turns people off. I feel like if I just turn off my ‘I like you” wave, people will be more cmfortable around me…. But then again, I also feel like I’ll lose out not being to find anyone who I’m attracted to. Because I’m going out of my way to not ‘like them’<\/p>\n
And I ask myself… in the end… Is any of it real? Or with all of this..is it manufactured and that’s closest it’ll ever get.<\/p>\n
Perhaps that’s why there are no tears. There are no real feelings left inside.Merely, some good and not so good facades learned from years an a director, analyst of human behavior, and mentally messed up kid.<\/p>\n
Tony, Tia…. I miss you both.<\/p>\n