Last night I watched the movie Click with Adam Sandler. Comedies are lost on me, and I rarely choose to watch them, but I do like ideas. I like ideas on alternate realities, time travel, inventions that help with life… I like ideas.
In this movie, Adam Sandler is given a remote, with which he is able to control his environment. He is able to mute sounds, fast forward through unpleasant times, pause… I am not writing a review of the movie. I am terrible at writing reviews. I just want to express what I experienced while watching it.
As in many movies, there was much that I had to block out: words, jokes, inappropriate references. I can do that. I have to do that. For whatever reason, I do not find such things add to the movie, but I do accept that other people expect them to be there, and so I block them out.
I don’t remember laughing once as I watched the movie. As I said, I watched it for the ideas. The comedy was lost on me – it actually isn’t that I don’t know a joke has been told, or that it is supposed to be funny, it is more that the joke leaves me feeling nauseous. They often do.
Instead, the movie made me cry. And when I say it made me cry, I mean that even hours after it was over, as I was lying in my bed, I was crying over the thoughts this movie brought out. Although I like movies that make me cry, I wouldn’t exactly say that I liked this one. It was okay, but I probably won’t watch it again.
The thing is, while he may have accidentally fast forwarded through his life, it does fit with the way I feel about mine. I have no remote to get through the bad parts – and really, if I had such a remote, I would be much more likely to use the pause and rewind buttons than fast forward anyway. I don’t exactly want to rush through life, it just feels like life is rushing past me.
It was that thought, more than any other, that made me so sad. I feel like I have lived a life on fast-forward. Everything rushes by me, and I am never ready for it. Pause. Rewind. Repeat these years. I can’t live at such a speed as I am on – and really, my life at this point is not busy. I am at home, and most days have less than 2 hours of work and activities to get through, which I have set up myself, in order to feel good about my day. Still it feels too fast.
As I have said before, it is as if I look away for a moment, and when I turn back, everything has changed. I am far from home. My son has grown. My grandparents are no longer living. My children – the dream of the adoption – has been taken away. I am turning forty next fall, yet most of the time I feel like a child – so how did I get to be so old? I turn away, and look back, and everything is over. That more than anything makes me feel sad.
But I did like the idea of having such a remote. I would just use it very differently than he did. Pause. Take a breath. Think it through. Rewind. Find the best path. Press play, and do it well. I can’t live life so fast. I can’t think so fast. And when life comes at me so fast, I spend so much time feeling overwhelmed, and battling against it, that I hardly have a moment to take it in.
Autism. Too much. Too loud. Too strong. Too fast. Please, slow it down!