On The Nature Of Daylight
I began to cry when Max Richter's musical piece "On the Nature of Daylight" began playing over the last few moments of Arrival. I recognized the opening chords from Shutter Island, a film that came out a few years earlier, almost immediately. I had loved this music. I actually had it playing over my old blog, and, years ago, during moments of sadness I would play it for myself. I guess that I was looking for empathy in the piano and the violin that I couldn't find in the people around me. Not my teachers, no matter how well-meaning. Not my friends. Not my family.
Who can understand mental illness if they've never experienced it?
Arrival is, at its heart, about communication. The aliens and the humans struggle to communicate with each other, yes, and so do the many human groups struggle to communicate between themselves. On a more personal level, Ian and Louise, the film's two main characters, also build a rapport together. Communication between the humans and the aliens yields a new language and new technology, while communication between the various human groups yields a new piece and spirit of cooperation, and communication between Ian and Louise leads to their marriage. With this message swirling around in my head, I left the theater, wiped my eyes, and sat down at this computer to think.
My husband and I met over my blog. I had written about mental illness, and he had sent me a message of support. We began talking, first by the blog's messenger, then by phone. Those conversations became my sanctuary. My husband also has depression, and mental illness is as much a language as any. It was life-changing for me to meet another person as fluent as I was. Our mutual understanding became the cornerstone of our friendship, and, eventually, our marriage.
I think about being reached out to by him all those years ago. I wonder sometimes what would have happened to me if I hadn't replied to Jack, if I had withdrawn into my lonely Wellesley dorm room and stayed holed up there until they kicked me out. I wouldn't be the woman I am today. I have to seriously wonder if I would even be alive.
Lately I've been consciously reaching out to people. I've met new family members through my in-laws. I've even made a few new friends, which has always been hard for me. Occasionally I feel as though I've stepped into someone else's shoes, like an impostor in my own skin. Someone who feels at home in the sunlight. I still struggle with communication, but with tools and support, I feel like I'm finally getting somewhere.
