Cfrock
Keep it strong
In just over two weeks my mum and I are going to London to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on stage. She bought the tickets as a Christmas present and she seems really excited about the whole thing. I'm... not. I want to be, but this whole thing shines a light on a lot more than it should. And it's not just because Cursed Child is a terrible story in every conceivable way. I've maintained since reading the script that seeing it performed would be a very different experience. While the story will still be irretrievably bad, the staging itself might be worth the price of admission. I guess I'll finally be able to put that to the test.
It's two things that are stopping me from being pleased about what I recognise as a big gesture. First, is the impact this has had on what little self-esteem I had. I'm twenty-eight years old, going to see a play of a children's book franchise with my mum. That idea, that image, just sticks in my throat. I can't help but feel as though I should be taking a girlfriend to go see it. It wouldn't be unreasonable to be taking a wife, even my own kids. But instead my mum is taking me, a grown man. I can't help but feel infantilised by it, and I'm already embarrassed to an extent. It's put the stagnation of my entire life under a spotlight and my whole reaction has been to crumble. I feel like a child, and not in a carefree, whimsical way. At 28 my brother had a daughter. At 28 my mum had two sons. I have friends my age who have been married for years. And I'm here, exactly where I was when I was seventeen with no sign of anything changing. No drive to make any change. I feel like the end already came and I didn't have the common decency to leave when I was supposed to. My mum took me to see the old movies when I was a child. Now she's taking me to see the play as an adult. It's as though my constant disappointment with my entire life has been underlined for emphasis.
The second is that I can see how much this means to my mum. She got me other Harry Potter themed items for Christmas including a wallet and an egg cup. For my last birthday she got us ticket to visit the Harry Potter studios in London. She talks about seeing the new Fantastic Beasts movies a lot. And I mean, I do like Harry Potter, but it feels as though this is the only way my mum can think of to relate to me. It's like this is the only thing she knows about me, the only thing she can connect to me through. And I know that's because I've been so closed off and distant for so many years. It's like... It's like there's so little of me that even my own mum can't relate to me without using Harry Potter as a proxy, all because I was really into it as a child. That's how far back she has to go to thing of something I had any kind of enthusiasm for, any passion. The last thing she can remember that made me happy. I know she means well, I know she's trying to make me happy, and there is a heartbroken part of me that's grateful to her for trying to reach out. It's just that my mind can't get over the hump of the negative side to that, that understanding that I'm an incomplete person.
I just needed to get that down somewhere. Here's as good a place as any, I guess. Keep it strong, ZD x
It's two things that are stopping me from being pleased about what I recognise as a big gesture. First, is the impact this has had on what little self-esteem I had. I'm twenty-eight years old, going to see a play of a children's book franchise with my mum. That idea, that image, just sticks in my throat. I can't help but feel as though I should be taking a girlfriend to go see it. It wouldn't be unreasonable to be taking a wife, even my own kids. But instead my mum is taking me, a grown man. I can't help but feel infantilised by it, and I'm already embarrassed to an extent. It's put the stagnation of my entire life under a spotlight and my whole reaction has been to crumble. I feel like a child, and not in a carefree, whimsical way. At 28 my brother had a daughter. At 28 my mum had two sons. I have friends my age who have been married for years. And I'm here, exactly where I was when I was seventeen with no sign of anything changing. No drive to make any change. I feel like the end already came and I didn't have the common decency to leave when I was supposed to. My mum took me to see the old movies when I was a child. Now she's taking me to see the play as an adult. It's as though my constant disappointment with my entire life has been underlined for emphasis.
The second is that I can see how much this means to my mum. She got me other Harry Potter themed items for Christmas including a wallet and an egg cup. For my last birthday she got us ticket to visit the Harry Potter studios in London. She talks about seeing the new Fantastic Beasts movies a lot. And I mean, I do like Harry Potter, but it feels as though this is the only way my mum can think of to relate to me. It's like this is the only thing she knows about me, the only thing she can connect to me through. And I know that's because I've been so closed off and distant for so many years. It's like... It's like there's so little of me that even my own mum can't relate to me without using Harry Potter as a proxy, all because I was really into it as a child. That's how far back she has to go to thing of something I had any kind of enthusiasm for, any passion. The last thing she can remember that made me happy. I know she means well, I know she's trying to make me happy, and there is a heartbroken part of me that's grateful to her for trying to reach out. It's just that my mind can't get over the hump of the negative side to that, that understanding that I'm an incomplete person.
I just needed to get that down somewhere. Here's as good a place as any, I guess. Keep it strong, ZD x
Hope for the best possible outcome, dear. 
