I am a weird sleeper. My arms fall asleep all the time. I’m a cover stealer. I toss and turn as if I’m doing St. Vitus’ dance on a regular basis. But best of all I sometimes have wakeful dreams where I just know something is going on around me or in my bedroom. This is a common PTSD symptom and I have yet to grow or heal my way out of it. It doesn’t help that I love horror and teen slasher films either. Some people say, “Oh, how can you put those images in your head?” Hey, nothing horrifies me on TV or in the movies. I’ve experienced or seen my own horrors, so this doesn’t bother me. What, do you think I’d sleep any less fitfully? Families are far, far scarier in real life than in the movies, trust me. Although The Hills Have Eyes remake gave it a good go as far as warped families are concerned! Whew! That was one warped flick.
Don’t get me wrong, some slasher films are just awful and have no film or life value whatsoever! The other night we watched a Dee Snider (i.e. Twisted Sister) movie in which he starred, wrote, and directed. Did you ever watch a movie and feel slimed? That’s how we felt after watching it. So I go to bed that night and I distinctly remember, on that edge of sleepfulness and wakefulness that I am constantly in at night, whispering to my husband that there was someone coming through the floor next to the bed. I kid you not! This is typical. He says, “Sure there is dear,” and rolls over taking his half of the covers with him. On another occasion while dreaming, I will sit straight up in bed and say, “What was that?” convinced that I heard something. Another night I carried on a full conversation with a little guy sitting on a stack of books across the room! Rod Serling should have asked me for stories!
Now, I know full well this is common for those of us who were never allowed to get a full night’s sleep in harrowing situations, but my husband is a little freaked out by it sometimes. I think now he’s used to it, but this morning he says, “What if someone really breaks in at night? It’ll be then that I won’t believe you and we’ll be killed in our beds!” We joke about it, sure, but what else can I do?
So does this mean I won’t watch scary movies anymore? HELL no!! In fact we went to see Mr. Brooks over the weekend with my Army son, his fiance, my daughter, and the hubby. A lot of critics hated it!
I didn’t want to see it, not because of the critics, whom I never believe about a movie, but because I thought it didn’t look that good. Some critics have a lousy suspension of disbelief mechanism. Boy, was I wrong about the movie and was it delicious! It’s Kevin Costner’s best work since Dances With Wolves and William Hurt is ALWAYS good. Psychologically, it’s brilliant and very disturbing in the way we (or at least I) identified with the killer. Face the abyss my friends. It’s only when we fully embrace our darkness that we can fully live. (Fight Club = dark zen) And this is so true.
I found that confronting my fears head on facilitates the growth process far better than whining to myself about how I can’t be loving or gentle, or kind, etc. I know I’m none of those things, so I don’t try to be something I’m not when the moods strike. That’s just me. Films, like books, are great arenas to confront those things within us that we choose to gloss over and repress. I am not afraid of violence any longer. Been there, done that. No one can steal that inner sense of self from me anymore. I’m also not saying that I like violent movies because I’m a serial killer or that violence lives right below the surface of my seemingly peaceful facade, but sometimes facing violence in films (not necessarily the torture porn of Hostel or the constant barrage of women in peril films) brings thoughts and feelings to the forefront of our consciousness that we are forced to look at. We need to understand our emotional triggers before we can ever hope to control ourselves in a constructive or redemptive way.
Anyway, I wonder what I’ll dream about tonight after watching my TiVo’d premier of The Closer? (awesome show by the way).