Wednesday, 21 December 2011

63 more years

I avidly watch In Treatment, have done since the start of the first season.  It's clever and well made and real; hard hitting, painful and thought provoking.

Today I watched Series 3, Episode 23, Jessie - week six and it connected with my own past; I feel drawn to share but cant find a clip so my words will have to do, here goes.

The episode picks up Jessie on his 17th birthday; he's adopted, gay, artistically talented and struggling with his identity.  Whilst none of the first three aspects of his character resonate with me, the last does, especially when I take myself back to being 17.  Over the last five encounters with Jessie I have found myself increasingly empathising with his torture about who he is and will become.  In this Episode seven words sum it all up when talking about the life ahead of him:
"another 63 more years to go".

I absolutely, completely and utterly felt that way at 17.  How much more of this unending confusion, misery and self loathing would I have to endure?  If I lived to an average age then it was at least six decades more.

This was the crux of it.
These were the feelings I couldn't cope with.
This unending torture was what pushed me over the edge.

As I watched Jessie's pain in this episode tonight I was taken back to that place and those emotions.

It took months to start feeling able to function again from that low point; years to truly be at a place of recovery.  That sort of pain is never truly forgotten but it can be left behind.

I am 37 now and look forward to at least 43 years more.  Now I look forward with hope and knowledge that I am worth life and love.

If you know someone who seems despondent or depressed, especially at Christmas time; please reach out and connect with them.  Your gesture might give them some hope for 63 more years.

3 comments:

Anita Mathias said...

How are you doing with your fitness by forty project, Emma?

Emma Major said...

Good thanks Anita, I'm loving it but don't have time to blog it :)

Anne said...

My father often succumbed to depression over the Christmas period. Many years he disappeared into hospital. He was only child of elderly parents, was filled with RC guilt as a teenager, then was in the Battle of the Bulge in 1944-5 & emerged shell-shocked, so he had a lot to cope with. Gave his children understanding for those who suffer from depression though.