Note To Self – Re-watch “Silver Linings Playbook”

I have so much difficulty seeing silver linings and worse feeling their existence which as I’ve stated before is something my therapist is trying to beat into my head by constantly saying my feelings are dangerous and irrational. In Silver Linings Playbook, Bradley Cooper’s Pat is bi-polar and just out of a court-enforced mental institution stay, but is trying to learn how to see and make the best of bad situations. In other words, he’s working to change his lifelong pessimistic outlook to one where the cup is half-full. Eventually he’s able to overcome a trigger which is a marvelous feat and one that the movie’s detractors don’t seem to realize. Many who disliked the movie and accused it to be too “Hollywood” believed Pat vanquishes his bi-polar disorder thanks in part to his relationship with Jennifer Lawrence’s equally unstable Tiffany, but that’s not the case. What Tiffany helps Pat do is overcome that trigger, but there’s still a lot of work to be done. I left the theater knowing that the story was not over, but a major bump (as well as a few smaller ones) in the road had been crossed. Essentially, Pat truly realized and accepted silver linings, and the movie showed us that talking with people who understand you and your situation is just as pertinent to healing as conventional talk therapy.

Still from “Silver Linings Playbook”

How does this apply to me? As I said, I as yet am unable to unquestionably see and/or accept silver linings, and I’m also desperately trying to change my outlook from extreme negative to remotely positive. It’s something I can’t seem to grasp…how to change your core beliefs when they’ve been with you so long that they feel innate. Here’s where my therapist would say, “Stop trying to understand everything!” and then list all my accomplishments in the face of difficult circumstances.

Yesterday Elaine and I took Sienna to the Long Island Aquarium & Exhibition Center out in Riverhead and had a very nice time. I love aquariums because I’ve always been fascinated by undersea life (though I dislike things like sea lion shows because I don’t quite trust the treatment of the animals). One of my dreams is to own an enormous saltwater tank filled with spectacular and intriguing creatures, though I know that’s unlikely to happen. Anyway, Sienna enjoyed running around, looking at beautiful fish, incredible sharks, and was especially enthralled by some person dressed up as a shark with huge sneakers (I think she was more amazed at the sneakers than anything else as she kept pointing at them and giggling and reaching out to touch them – like her mom, Sienna seems to have a shoe fetish). They also had an area where you could pose with gorgeous parrots and we decided to pay the $20 because 1) the money raised is directly used to help take care of the birds and 2) we were curious as to Sienna’s reaction – she showed zero fear.

I got pulled over on the drive home and this is where things fell apart for me. It wasn’t that I got pulled over, it was how I was treated by the cop. I was polite and cooperative, but the cop was the very definition of a bully. As I wrote on Facebook last night, “With apologies to any nice ones out there, just because you have a badge, uniform and car w/ flashing lights does not mean you’re superior to people. You should still be courteous if you pull someone over, especially if that person is acting politely. You should NOT interrupt when the driver is trying to ask a question. You should NOT interrupt the driver’s response if you ask the driver a question. And you should NOT walk away in the middle of the driver trying to ask a question leaving his/her voice trailing off into the wind. Policing traffic doesn’t give you the right to be an a-hole.” The bully thing always gets to me as it brings up so much from my past, especially if it’s in a situation where I’m completely impotent. I couldn’t fight or talk back to the cop despite his goading. I simply had to bear it. By the time we arrived home I was quite literally shaking with fury and I felt like there was this huge knot in my chest. I spoke to my dad about the incident and he said that the vast majority of cops are “power-hungry a-holes” (being a lawyer, he’s dealt with plenty of them), but because they hold all the cards, all you can do is say, “Yes sir. No sir.” and get out as quickly as possible. But because of my past the bullying thing wrenched my guts. When Elaine mentioned the good time we had at the aquarium I said I wish we’d never gone out. To me, the entire experience was tainted and not worth it. My daughter’s enjoyment paled in comparison to my anger, to the money I’d owe, and to the points on my license (I’m not going to go into why I was pulled over, but Elaine agrees I was singled out for doing something that everyone else was doing. It was just bad luck).

That night, as the knot sat there, I started thinking about Fruitvale Station (which is based on a true story and tells of the final day in the life of 22-year-old, Oscar Grant III, played wonderfully by Michael B. Jordan) and how the cops acted so superior, so bullying, and not only refused to listen to Oscar or his friends, but goaded them into making things worse for themselves. Oscar wasn’t perfect, but neither he nor his friends deserved the treatment they received from the police which ultimately ended in tragedy and was captured on video by a number of witnesses; the officer who killed Oscar was convicted of manslaughter. I wondered how much more furious I’d have been were I not white. Would my first thought be that I was being racially profiled? Probably. Would the officer’s goading lead to an escalation? I don’t know. Regardless, as I said, a uniform and badge does not mean you’re better than anyone else. Unfortunately, like my dad believes, too many people in power feel and act exactly that way.

Still from “Fruitvale Station”

Getting back to silver linings, I should be able to separate the incident from the rest of the day, but I’ve been unable to; the entire day was marred because of that bastard of a cop. So I’m using this blog to try and get out some of my anger and to visually remind myself of the good things that happened that day. Maybe rereading this and looking at these pictures will one day allow me to say it was worth it.