Is anyone watching Physical on Apple TV? Angelica and I started watching over the weekend. Rose Byrne plays the main character, Sheila, who subjects herself (and the viewer) to an endless barrage of self-abuse. The internal dialogue which accompanies her is particularly confronting and uncomfortably familiar. It’s in the extreme, but it’s familiar.
The show is set in the ’80s, which allows us a degree of distance from the time, the culture and the representations of masculinity and femininity on display. The men consistently display misplaced or overstated confidence in their own brilliance while being childish or manipulative or both. The women are conceited, self-loathing and often as unkind to each other as they are to themselves. We’re hanging out for some redemption, a reprieve, maybe one is coming? We’re only a few episodes in but we have had to take a breather. We were almost screaming at the television for Sheila to reach out to Greta, who is begging to be vulnerable with someone... Why is she suffering in silence? Find someone to be real with already!
We’re fortunate. We’re different, but maybe not so different. I caught myself spiralling the other day. It was late and we’d been watching too much news before bed. Angelica was about to jump in the shower when she asked if I was OK? She said I looked sad. The question made me feel exposed so I smiled and said I was fine. I like being the buoyant one; it’s more comfortable. She shrugged and left the room which was a relief because she might have called my bluff. I’m pretty new age so I decided to meditate to try and put my head back in order.
When she came back into the room, I was still overwhelmed but I had recovered enough sense to remember she was my ally and I did not need to suffer quietly and in shame. I also remembered that, from experience, I believe being vulnerable with people you care about gives you both an opportunity to feel close and important. I told her I wasn’t OK, that I was feeling overwhelmed. I haven’t had proper work in 18 months and we’ve got just enough cash left in the business to see us through till early next year, about when we’re expecting a kid; our first. That part is very exciting.
When international travel resumes, our business should slowly recover, which I had said after 3 months, and after 6, 12, 18… I have been oscillating back and forth, waiting, looking for jobs but not sure about what or where or how, imagining new businesses, trying to use the time productively… It’s hard to know where to allocate my resources and how to navigate the mix of pressure and responsibility, ambition and pride, while my self-confidence waxes and wanes.
Angelica asked questions and let me explore feeling overwhelmed without making me feel ashamed or like it couldn’t coexist with me also being OK, or being OK in the morning, or next week. And that’s part of the fear – my little man brain has me thinking I can either be fine or I can be broken – one or the other in perpetuity. It’s why I offer support more often …and because Angelica is better at asking for it. Given the opportunity, she is also better at giving it. It’s not long before I am feeling more comfortable, reassured, back to making shit jokes which is my speciality. I can put the problems down for the evening and though they will be there waiting for us in the morning we will be up to them and that’s probably life; an endless series of problems in search of solutions and who we are for each other along the way.
Us is a good pronoun. A bit more complicated than me; it’s much harder to reach consensus as an us, but more likely to be accurate. Me is a very small sample size, which is why self-talk can get so toxic - we can get away with saying some awful things to ourselves with no one to keep us in check. When I was just me, I kept that in check by staying busy, keeping the internal dialogue to a minimum. I didn’t like being accountable for my mood or realizing I might have been wrong, or unfair, or inconsiderate. I’ve got a particular way of seeing (or not seeing) things and I suppose it’s like being colour blind: you only really know because one day someone tells you red and green don’t go together and you say what the hell is red?
Maybe it’s a masculine thing, or maybe it was just a me thing, but I certainly found it easy to conclude any problems were usually to do with other people. I’m clever, capable and rational, so if I am annoyed, annoying or underperforming in some way – someone else is likely to blame.
I think of that as a nasty consequence of exceptionalism. When you think you’re all that, you’re less attuned to how and when you’re not and it’s probably someone else’s fault. I think it has been easier to grow up with that particular distortion as a man in many of the cultures and environments I have experienced.
Angelica had her own thing going on which I am less qualified to speak on. Roughly, we can refer to it as perfectionism; wanting to get it right for everyone all the time, unlikely to extend herself compassion... I think it has been easier to grow up with that particular distortion as a woman in many of the cultures and environments I have experienced.
So we started dating and suddenly, when I was in a bad mood there was someone to let me know about it. Of course, I loved that. And it wasn’t just moods, we noticed things about each other and brought them to attention - the good and bad and open for interpretation. I wasn’t good with the criticism. It’s hard, suddenly being accountable to other people’s observations and beliefs. When I was alone, it was much easier to marginalise other people’s experiences or to be oblivious to them, especially if they were different to me. They were just other people.
Having someone I care about challenge me is difficult, partly because Angelica is not other people. She is very different to me, but she is not abstract. She takes care to explain and I take care to understand. We can agree to disagree but often, we find our way to a consensus through a critical and reflective process that is better than where either of us started because two is double one. Boom.
You didn’t know I was going to drop a little maths. This blog has everything.
One is definitely a shit sample size. I’m writing it down so I can remember self-help has nothing on other people.