I hate that fucking movie. Just today. It will passs though. Ok, maybe I do no hate it but it still messes with my daily life 15 years later. Let me explain how it feels to me. To me, the movie was like I slit my wrists on camera. When some people watch it, some people want to hand me a bandage.They want to fix me. Some people watching identify with slitting there own wrists. Some people watching can't imagine why anyone would be so stupid as to try to kill themselves. Other people like to watch the blood while they are bleeding at the same time. The problem is I am not bleeding anymore. I have stitches. I occasionally pull at them but I can't take them out. A scar is there- a healthy one. Are you looking for the scar or the stitches? One says I survived. The other says if you pull hard enough, I bleed for you all over again. Everyone has an opinion about what they are watching.
I am being somewhat dramatic of course but pain is generally private. My pain is art and on display. It makes me occasionally feel: fat, stupid, old. Then I get over myself. I am off drugs. I really do not care if you watch as long as you understand I am clean. I evolved from that person into a strong woman. I am enjoying my life. I don't actually hate the movie- I hate that so many people are still using and searching for answers.