Vulnerable Hours #201
On Grief and Adjusting to a New-Normal of Surreality
Youthquake is a newsletter with Pop Culture ∙ Commentary ∙ Critique
The TGIF Post varies from New Music Friday releases, Retro Fixation, film reviews, The Audio Files, and so much more in pop culture adjacency. Today’s social commentary piece is adjusting to a new normal of surreality when grieving. We’re happy to have you; get into it below.
December was such a holiday blur; after my unexpected final Youthquake piece with my Kirsten Dunst retrospect, I spent the rest of the month until very recently in a hibernating hermit mode. Resorting to my Cancerian way is a defense mechanism when disassociating no longer works— I’ve been mentally checked out from reviewing and writing since probably after the Tribeca film festival when familial crises’ were captivating my attention— and sanity.
Burnout was quietly stealing all of my attention and taking my fangirl excitement from things that used to spark joy, like films and even music. The same comfort shows were being watched for the 1327th time on some hamster wheel of binge-watching. December changed that. After needing to re-escape, I rewatched Lars von Trier’s Melancholia last month, and it perfectly encapsulated my disintegrating feeling. The dooming existential collapse is due to life’s confusing labyrinthian ways of seemingly never-ending obstacles among moments of happy or peaceful existence.
Usually, that’s when it seems when life’s curveball is thrown. At least that’s how it felt when my family and I got wind of earth-shattering and life-changing news, the kind that the world assumedly rushes into you in such an instant that even reactions are slow-burning. Until your brain catches up to your body, processing the unfolding moments of the menacing and collapsing threat of existence. In such an instance, you’re suddenly reminded about life’s fragility and the things that matter instead of the things we harp on about as we did pre-earth-shattering news.
Suddenly faced with dejection, the world around you seemingly crumbles. The world thought to be true was nonexistent at that moment— that’s how it’s been feeling when my family and I got word of my brother-in-law-’s passing.
Since the buckling news, there’s been a slight influx of new information with high and jumbled emotions as my family is still adjusting to life with one less family member. Reeling from my former sentiments was confusing, to say the least; those feelings of anger and disappointment don’t just suddenly disappear. Regardless of those previously felt emotions, the apocalyptic mixed feelings of missing the signs and many others are far more intense.
Feeling out of sorts is bound to happen— I’m still processing it myself now; it’s all still incredibly surreal and nightmarish to think that someone could’ve been struggling internally so much without knowing how to help themselves. Healing doesn’t happen in a straight line is something I often write about as I continue to learn the vulnerability and humanity of existing. While that may be true, I’m still struggling to grasp that there are others— like my brother-in-law who knew they deserved better but unsure if they were worth it— when of course, they are.
With the help of therapy and the quiet strength of friends and family, both online and off, the world will continue to feel surreal as life goes on. While it won’t be easy, there are moments where the waves of sorrow, grief, or guilt hit me like crashing tides, yet time passing will be the most rewarding and bittersweet feeling of healing as it takes time to reassemble after a restructural build from the foundation up.
Unlike I was previously constructing, I often tore down only to rebuild again and again without learning or growing. Without perceptions evolving, I expected results without demolishing anew, yet my very non-linear healing has brought me here. The difference is that dealing with life’s grief like soulmate friendship endings, among other shattering occurrences during a pandemic, has better prepared me to rebuild from experience— rather than from scratch. Even with times being irregular and life being chaotically unprecedented due to still existing in the crosshairs of a politicized global pandemic of misinformation, rebirth and rebuilding are possible.
📚 Current Reads:
Indie Sleaze is back, my friends via Harpers Bazaar— my time is nigh to relive my early twenties.
I’ve been reading lots of Joan Didion, and with a literary icon now gone, Didion’s words of self-respect in Slouching Towards Bethlehem will stay with me more than ever.
“Self-respect: Its Source, Its Power,” first published in Vogue in 1961. Image Cr: Vogue. Anna Marie Tendler’s interview profile in Harpers Bazaar; her work spoke to me while her words captivated a profound poignancy that I was enduring and couldn’t articulate. AMT’s quote was such a standout to me these days; I had to share it below.
🎥 Film Picks:
I may not have been watching films like before, but I still have my favorites for escapism, as does Sam. We each compiled a master film list below; funnily, Sam and I have similar favorites. Without repeating, I wanted to continue her film picks that I think pair well together— happy binge-watching. The escapism continues with our upcoming cabin core picks soon.
Although I have to admit I mostly rewatched a lot of my go-to comfort shows that include The Office, IT Crowd, Peep Show, and Ugly Betty in December. After escaping with compelling shows like Yellowjackets— a Christina Ricci renaissance is long overdue; I can give my tv a much-needed break now that I’m mostly over disassociating from my love for films. Playing catch up has been fun seeing films like Spencer, Benedetta, The Worst Person in the World, The Lost Daughter, The Power of Dog, Encanto, Nightmare Alley, and Scream. Getting back into myself will take time; I’m happy to start now.