something (more) about memory

This is going to be a bit rambling, but I promise the thoughts eventually come around. I feel that they occurred around the same time and are staying together for a reason. I believe that they do have the same DNA. Let's see. 

Recently, a documentary regarding the niche of our horror production came out. It was not just about us, but instead about the whole community of interesting and creative people that we worked alongside of. For many of them, they were people that we became lifelong friends with. It was an excellent history made with a lot of love, but it really surprised me to see how a lot of my friends reacted to and experienced its release. It's always going to be weird to witness someone documenting what was ultimately an important period in your own life -- I don't think anyone except celebrities and criminals (or celebrity criminals) really experience it on a normal basis -- but many of my friends had a very vulnerable and emotional reaction to the production. 

This was a bit surprising to me. Not in a negative light, but I guess one that was... eye-opening? Insightful? I thought that I was immune to that reaction. In case it hasn't been clear in the tone of these posts, I have ended up having conflicting and wavering feelings about the whole project, prior to the documentaries. I know that my life is better because of the people I met, but I can't say one way or another that I would do it again, given the chance. Far, far too much time spent with the wrong people and not focusing on healthy habits, being better, and getting my mental health in check. Just far, far too much time that could have been better spent elsewhere. Goes without saying, this is not about my boys. Last time I'll repeat that here.

But I feel that a lot of that remorse has been internalized and sort of hardened with time. What I'm getting at is, I don't think that my revulsion is the proper reaction I should have held on to. 

There's been a lot of reflection and growth throughout and since the project ceased. I know that my friends and I were at the best and most open point in our creative collaboration in those final years. I think that the most candid reflection we had in a group setting, on camera, was in the questions-and-answers videos we did after the project had ended. Looking back on those now is a warm experience, but they still hold traces of what I am going to describe. 

In an earlier post about memory, I wrote about how I felt that I was flying blind and operating in the dark when I was younger. When things became emotional, I would commit to a line of thinking and steamroll others and not be open to rejection or argument. When things settled, I would have to be reminded of what was actually said or conveyed, because I had already made up my mind on the disagreement beforehand. The point of a conversation is to listen and engage, not prepare your next words as the other is speaking. I rarely succeeded in doing that. While that whole type of experience has long been made history, I still feel myself identifying and growing out of those habits. I do not allow others to suffer through feeling that way, but I do still hold onto the guilt that would always, inevitably, come from it. Even if it took a lot of people a lot of effort to eventually break that message through to me. 

There are times where I sort of feel like a dog that has been shouted at. Being mindful of these old habits and how easy it could be to fall back into isn't a bad thing, but there is a balancing act between acting like that irritating person, the mindfulness required to improve, and the meekness in the concern of stepping on toes. That's not who I am, either of those two drastic poles. But I so desperately never want to cause that frustration or pain again, that I do sometimes feel myself leaning towards that meekness. And it results in being concerned to ever take credit for positive things that I've done. 

In those Q&A videos, I can detect where these feelings are on display. We're discussing our chosen soundtrack and the music that we loved using in the series. I ask the submitted question about who was responsible for that and I tense up and look towards the guys. My buddy laughs and goes, "you can say it's you, man," or something along those lines. Watching that clip back without thinking about all of the above was like being splashed with cold water. It was so insignificant at the time, but now it's shocking to me. 

An even more striking and contemporary example of this occurred when watching the aforementioned documentaries. You can understand why I felt that so many of these thoughts and meditations felt sort of like synchronicities. I had been thinking on the previous post about memory, the weird feelings about timidness, my visible reactions in the Q&A videos... and thought again about how certain experiences have managed to even alter memory itself, in the hopes of not diminishing others' stories. 

The interviewer asked both my good friend and I about how our project came to be. Anyone reading this knows how much pride I take in the project, regardless of my feelings on the social experience of it all. We both told the story from our points of view, and I was smiling and laughing through watching it all. It was masterfully edited and juxtaposed against one another. He recounts how when we were in high school, we'd just drop in on each other's homes all the time, him much more so than I. I recall in great detail the story he told and can still clearly see that day. It was spot on, and I can see ourselves sitting at my soon-to-be college laptop in my parents' basement. For a moment, I was once again that ambitious kid with too much self-assurance for his own good. 

I wanted to do something creative and emotionally devastating. I wanted to make a mark in storytelling and I wanted to do it with my best friends. And I thought that we were more than capable of doing just that. My smile lasted through the fond memory and then it cuts to my interpretation of the events, days later. "Oh yeah, I was watching YouTube with my friends in the basement and asked if they saw this [other horror web series]." Now, that happened too, but days after this initial lightning strike of inspiration and confidence. Why did I mentally block out that memory of my friend dropping in on me and us huddling around the computer? Why did I default to insisting that I wasn't a part of something whimsical? 

At work, I am reminded of this habit more frequently, but it's not always in a negative light. I manage teams now, so when I defer to "we" rather than "I," I mean it in a supportive manner. A manager is only as good as his people. But whenever I'm writing an email or something and use "we," I am immediately transported back to this odd line of thinking. 

To sum this up: after working on yourself for so long, and mindlessly clamoring for credit is an old bad habit you want to avoid, it still lingers and is hard to live with the losses you've incurred, while being difficult to accept the wins, the good, that you've managed. You internalize the losses and refuse or reject any gains.  

To loop back to the initial text and sitting uncomfortably with how I feel about our work and the people outside of our group: I've really held onto a lot of the negative, while refusing to sit with and accept the good. 

Regarding the documentary and the unique feelings that it stirred for many of my friends and those in our community, I'd like to share something. A dear friend came to me out of the blue saying just this:

I kind of just had some realizations today about how very VERY grateful I am for your part in it. Your part in the [community] in general, you were honestly always a champion against so many fucking bullies, but also your part in my life. You helped pull me out of a dark chapter and really were this beacon of hope when I needed it. . . You impacted my life so permanently and positively and I know I'm years past I pointed it out to you, but I just wanted to reiterate.

This isn't a fluff piece to make me feel better about myself. This text just struck me to my core. It was so sudden. It was on top of those feelings of, "that was a good documentary, too bad I feel this or that way about the experience," and really made me take a step back.

We went on to talk about what I was going on about above: absorbing the bad and ignoring the good. They know that I did (and do) exactly that and insisted that I really take some time to remember the positive influences I had on the people I cared about. So, I'm going to try and do just that. I'm trying to let go of the remorse that taints so much of it. I am thankful to my friend. It was sobering and really helpful. 

I suppose it's all just something to keep in mind. It's easy to count and stack the losses in your life. It's hard to keep or quantify the good without letting it become an inorganic shield of sorts from any sort of criticism or self-reflection. There is a middle ground that is actually healthy, actually good for you. Keep those reminders close. I, for one, started keeping a photo album on my phone marked, "Important," to keep screenshots like that text message for days when it's hard to feel good about anything. Texts from my girlfriend, my family, and good friends are the mainstays, but sometimes a cute animal makes itself right at home, too. Maybe figure out something that helps you get through the not-cool-days. I was always a sucker for lockets in old movies or books, but feel that this 21st century version has its place, too.