Part of my goal with The Memory Tourist when I started it in March 2020 was to make a more personalized approach to my writing and criticism. To be honest, I am still proud of that incredible run I had between March and December, even though I feel like I personally lost the plot at points, either going into impersonal and contrived criticism or missing the point entirely. With my revamp for 2021, I have tried to find more of a balance, and I personally think that stripping back has allowed me to notice my strengths in the various areas of criticism. With that said, I am trying to reserve just how personal I get in them, saving them for this particular column.
One of my goals was that I would be more transparent once a month, providing an update on how I feel throughout the month. Given how cathartic I found writing through my mental breakdowns in November and December, I feel it’s essential to stay honest. After all, my goal is to explore MY relationship to media. Your personal mood greatly impacts a work of art, and boy does January 2021 have a lot of ground to cover. For an inaugural entry, it’s strange to note that this is a month that started with dancing and ended with a terrible case of invasive thoughts and depression.
I know, January used to be such an uneventful month for most people. Back in the olden days, when it was 2011 and I hosted a podcast, my friend suggested it was “the silly season” because it was when b-rate studio movies would come out. I frankly miss that time. I miss going to the theaters in general. I recall a recent Atlantic article that talked about the value of people we only know in our periphery, and I recognize that’s something I miss a lot. I found those in theaters and in auditoriums. To me, those were always about the communal experience, and I think it greatly impacts the belief that I achieved nothing in all of 2020.
It’s tough to say because I know this is untrue. The Memory Tourist alone has produced almost 450 columns. I had one of my most significant follower growths on Twitter, AND I self-published my first short story collection “Esoteric Shapes” among a dozen other short stories. I did things that were, career-wise, productive. And yet, I found myself in the past two weeks beginning to feel something that is fairly common. I don’t have to be a millionaire to experience this, but imposter syndrome is difficult to overcome, believing that you don’t earn the success that you have. Maybe it’s a counter-product of being autistic and always feeling just that bit off socially, but it hit me hard recently.
Unlike my last two (!) mental breakdowns, I can’t exactly explain why this one happened. It came from someplace more personal as if water building at a dam. I think it’s the stress of the world, the fact that Los Angeles, CA is a hot spot for Coronavirus and we got a super-strain that is exacerbating situations, overwhelming hospitals. I watched Long Beach Mayor Robert Garcia working a test site downtown and it made me nostalgic. I don’t live that far from there and I’m dying to drive around just to look at everything. I used to be downtown every week, and I miss it so much. Also, I want to personally commend Garcia, who is doing an excellent job with the rollout and has been a great leader in all of this.
But I’m not taking a lot of that news well. As much as Joe Biden’s presidency has been largely positive, for some reason it allowed me to shift the perspective. Considering that his predecessor started a terrorist attack and is being treated unfairly by Republicans (CONVICT HIM!), anything is arguably better. I am thankful that we’re removed from January 6, 2021 because that was a terrible day, where I watched the news for six hours. I try not to because I recognize how distressing those images can be. I’m not proud of the fact that I saw the same American terrorist get murdered five times in the course of an hour. As much as I recognize that they’re a terrorist, the idea of watching a person die is not something I need to see.
To be completely honest, The Biden Inauguration was such a wonderful day, and am thankful that nothing awful happened. In fact, I watched it twice and greatly appreciated how it reflected an America that I wanted to live in. Besides his rhetoric matching my belief that this government is built on compromise, he reflected people of all walks. There was representation for LGBT, Black, Asian, disabled, liberals, and conservatives. If just in the short run, it already creates an image of unity that I am dying to experience. I recognize it’s foolish to blindly believe he’s great, so I remain hopeful that he will do the right thing.
With that said, my mental breakdown began to kick into place the day after, when my mind was finally cleared. I frankly don’t know everything that Biden has done in the past week because I have pulled away, trying to focus some time on me. I was not doing well. On Twitter, I had a very public breakdown that eventually came down to that all so terrifying question: “Why don’t people like me?” Again, I am able to know this isn’t true, but I was so overwhelmed and self-critical that I hurt myself. Even in a minor way, I don’t condone but understand. It relieved the pain, the invasive thoughts that continued to bother me throughout the next week. It was a spectrum of highs and lows, and all I could do was focus on myself and not give into my darker wishes.
It definitely has helped. One of the strangest revelations came with the new Euphoria special “Fuck Anyone Who Isn’t a Sea Blob” where Julia (Hunter Schafer) talks about how she feels that she has ruined her relationship with Rue (Zendaya). There was a line in there that spoke to me in which she said that Rue was able to see the me under the “million layers of not me.” Given that she goes on to discuss how she feels more real on the internet, it spoke to what ultimately was my problem. I was expecting too much from strangers online. I knew not to blame them, but I still couldn’t shake the fact that something was wrong with me. I believe it stems from the fact that I don’t have a personal friend that I can confide in. It’s been very lonely. Again, I can’t exactly blame my family. They’re awesome, but sometimes you need an external force to give you that space and comfort.
So, how do I cope and learn from this? What follows comes from being autistic and having an obsessive nature. If I want to know something, I’ll deep dive into it. The past three months have featured a lot of personal research with psychology papers, wanting to understand every problem that crosses my mind. As one can guess, this round featured a lot of research on depression and self-harm. I found survivor stories to be very encouraging, learning how they try to change their outlook on life. To me, these are the most compassionate and understanding people, who understand the pain better than any of us. I’m relatively stable if just because I’ve always feared a lack of control (which, hey, this pandemic is really screwing with), I’ve read up on other conditions like Borderline Personality Disorder, bipolar, and ADHD. I’ve also studied depression’s relationship to autism, and somehow knowing makes me feel safer.
I think it is because deep down I felt some relief when I accepted myself as autistic now two years ago. While some would argue that labels are adding unnecessary pressures, for me it allowed a chance to better understand my life. I’ve looked back at my life and find clarity as well as sadness regarding specific trauma. Still, the feeling of not being alone in these feelings is amazing, and I’ve personally felt comfort in people on YouTube discussing it. I turn to each one for a slightly different perspective, but I want to thank The Aspie World, Princess Aspien, Yo Samdy Sam, and Purple Ella for simply sharing this information. It helps me on stressful days.
To be honest, it also helped me to realize that some of the things that I like stem from the idea of feeling other, like masking in a neurotypical world. Why do I like My Fair Lady? Because it’s learning to adapt to a world you feel you don’t belong in. I’d watch Adam Sandler movies not because they were funny, but because he was eccentric, different, and that was somehow acceptable. To go further, I realized when watching Disobedience (2018) recently that I also relate heavily to queer cinema because of masking and the pressure to be accepted by a judgmental society that doesn’t understand your struggle. I don’t know if this speaks to something else about me, but I think there are enough parallels (though, I want to be clear, not the same struggles) that I find comfort in watching queer lovers finding each other, feeling less alone in the world.
Because I’m such a curious person and can’t help just questioning everything when I’m bored, I also began studying other things that I’ve felt personally insecure about. Thanks again to a video by Yo Samdy Sam, I’ve come to accept myself as demisexual. Before going further, I want to say that this is more an approach to sexual attraction than preference. I am straight, but my approach to sexual attraction comes from forming a deeper relationship with someone. This isn’t to say that I lack a desire for aesthetic beauty, but those carnal desires work differently. It may be why I’ve been more drawn to fictional characters’ personalities than their looks. For those who are still a bit confused, it falls on the asexual spectrum, falling between that and regular sexuality.
I can hope that the ace community isn’t ashamed of me. I’ve generally felt asexual but never felt that I fully fit that description. To be honest, I don’t think that this changes a lot but mostly serves like autism to help me understand parts of myself.
With that said, another way that I cope has been by hanging out on Tik Tok. I would even argue it’s an addiction that I’m trying to curb a little. Still, there are four subsets that I’m generally on, which is: neurodivergent, queer, cats, and dance. Some of it is an echo chamber, but every now and then you’ll get something great. I recognize that I’m getting soft when I found an asexual thirst trap joke about a pound cake to be utterly delightful. I think the search for those small things (and weird-ass cats) has provided brief moments of sanity.
Also, I’ve just started school and am excited to have that order in my life. While I still feel like I’m recovering from my mental breakdown, I am finding small ways to be happier. Having school allows me to find order in my day, even if yesterday I lacked the desire to go (I went) and hopefully remember what I’m trying to do with my life. To be clear, despite all of this conversation I am not a psychologist. I am at best a curious observer. I write fiction. I’m trying to get back the desire to write film criticism, but I am hitting a severe lack of interest in it right now. Promising Young Woman (2020) was a great movie, but I can’t muster the words to make a competent review. I’m honestly wondering if I even want to label that as a career right now.
I tell you, depression hasn’t been fun, but every now and then you’ll find something that makes the day brighter. I feel like I’m starting to have them more often, and I’m grateful for that. Still, I feel like I want to be distant for a little longer, take time to work things out. There’s a lot going on in my head, and I also have a ton of reading to do this weekend. My glasses broke, so it may take me longer to get through that. January has been one hell of a month, though then again every month lately has been a roller coaster of emotion. This pandemic is getting to me and I just have to fluctuate every now and then to stay sane.
Some advice, in closing, is don’t listen to B*Witched’s “C’est La Vie” 40 times in a few days, because while that song and music video is fascinating, you’ll eventually question your own sanity and I definitely think it exacerbated matters a bit too much. I’m kind of addicted to Kreayshawn’s “Blasé Blasé” right now, and I’m trying to curb it. I forgot what great songs are and I’m sad that I can’t access the titles because I know they’ll calm me a little bit. I need to remember what they are if just to find a balance.
Also, don’t read Stephen King’s “The Shining” if you are experiencing depression. I know that I did and boy did that suck. I honestly hate the book now and it’s no fault of King. I just didn’t need to hear about Jack being a manic depressive alcoholic for 600 pages right now. Maybe instead do what I did and read your personalized copy of Emily Dickinson poetry. It’s short and sweet and every line gives you something more to think about life and our place in it.
And finally, yes, I did name this column after an obscure Saoirse Ronan movie called How I Live Now (2013). I haven’t seen it. I don’t know if it’s any good or at all offensive, but it felt right when figuring this column out, so it stuck.
Anyway, I hope that you had an excellent January and I hope to make February a better month for me personally and mentally. I don’t want to keep having mental breakdowns because they’re not fun. I hope you are doing well and continue to do so because you are awesome. I am planning on doing school and start my next draft of my next novel. I like how things are turning out and I hope you will enjoy it whenever things come out.
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