Much needed positive energy once in a blue moon. XD From Ryomaden by Ryoma's dad:
I have seen different versions of the same line that had shrinky buzz words here and there but sounded no better than any average chicken soup for the soul. Good translation makes a huge difference. It is so simple and powerful and probably even surpassed the original Japanese I don't know...
Well I am lost for words... I don't know how to translate this into English without compromising its beauty... T_T
anyways watching Ryomaden a bit more systematically at the moment. it is tedious and long but abounds in positive energy so hopefully it can lend me a crutch through some current covering difficulties and upcoming loss and abandonment issues lol.
still not planning to watch the last episode, can't bear to see Fukuyama Ryoma being hacked to death. T_T
and trying not to be too harsh about Masha's bad acting this time round too... lol
when those really sad (or sweet, or both) korean dramas first became popular i think i felt a bit perplexed. the storylines and characters are so repetitive! What's so enjoyable about all this and why do people watch one after another? in recent times however as i try to identify and work through my interpersonal deficits (lol) i kind of came to the decision that I probably should watch more emotionally intense korean dramas to help fixing myself--
-- and i found this new one called Kill Me Heal Me that had really good ratings and reviews and is about a psych resident and her rich handsome dissociative identity disorder patient falling in love and living happily ever after (and her fixing his DID along the way too)
That's the show for me! i will identify with the psych resident! i think it will address my deep subconscious narcissistic needs! I am going to watch it!
It did turn out to be a good show. the DID patient was rich and handsome and gentle and funny and clearly more capable of love and nurture than any mentally undisturbed person(lol) and kept on taking the psych resident out to all sorts of yummy places to eat (not to say all his other personalities all happen to like the psych resident too and the acting was really good lol)
i genuinely thought i managed to get myself hooked despite its somewhat challenging ethical stance(lol more), watching multiple episodes in one night and wanting to stay up late and watch more episodes etc...
and then i had my food poisoning...
and then i felt really weak and vulnerable and miserable and irritable...
and then i lost all patience watching rich handsome DID patient going lovey-dovey. I think i skipped the last five episodes and went straight for the ending and quickly fast forwarded it to finish it off...
and i went back to old favourites for comfort and kept on rewatching this...
and this...
my regressed comfort position clearly has nothing to do with rich handsome nurturing DID patient but more isolated and damaged good looking smart guy quietly sipping his wine/tea scheming/plotting away with an ever present subtle streak of cruelty...
and i spent the last weekend sitting at home dishevelled and reading up on history of chinese explosives. I think i also had a dream of myself blowing up buildings and woke up feeling pretty emotionally satisfied... @.@
ever since i entered the shrinkage i've become really conscious that although-i-don't-know-whats-wrong-but-something-definitely-went-wrong-with-my-developmental-trajectory and found it increasingly difficult to pursue my old interests (often in isolation) guilt-free, without ruminating that i-am-just-being-avoidant-and-pathological-maybe-i-really-should-be-out-there-connecting-with-others-and-learning-to-comfort-and-nurture-and-being-comforted-and-nurtured-etc-etc-etc...
as always, work in progress.
but I will end with something that really helps with such guilt and to me, is sweeter than music. i read My Name is Red by Orhan Pamuk in my final year med school and grew fonder of the book by the year. I shall complete my favourite poem from there:
My fickle heart longs for the west when I’m in the east and for the east when I’m in the west My other parts insist I be a woman when I’m a man and a man when I’m a woman How difficult it is to be human, even worse is living a human life! I only want to amuse myself frontside and backside, to be eastern and western both.
there is something immensely captivating and redeeming through its brevity and simplicity that I still cannot fully fathom. it has certainly taken many years for me to transit from the initial shock horror "this is grossly inappropriate" to finally realising that the comforting and redeeming part of this lies not in its poetic first line but the rest...
though i am so deep in my cold cave of low anthropology (or residual nihilistic buddhist philosophy, whichever) that even fantasies of rich handsome DID patient can't fix me -- whenever this grossly inappropriate poem comes to mind -- the world strangely feels warmer, and brighter...
...and it assures me that i am not beyond all hope as a shrink(or as a human) to comfort and nurture, despite the ever strong desire at times to retreat into a more orderly and satisfying world of scheming smart guys being triumphant in their schemes, legendary generals neatly chopping off people's heads, and gunpowders and explosives doing great jobs and looking amazing.
so, dears, if this is shock horror to you, kindly take it as allegorical, remember my more appropriate side, and still be my friends. XD
