Ruining Your Favorite Movies: Good Will Hunting

Hello friends! I hope you are taking time to rest these upcoming weeks this winter. Here in Oklahoma, we are expecting an "artic blast" of cold air that quite frankly, can take a hike as far as I'm concerned. If it could be Spring and Summer year round, I would be a happy girl.

Anyways, you're not here to talk about the weather, are you? You're here to see what movie I "ruin" with the therapist perspective. Next up, 'Good Will Hunting' with Matt Damon and Robin Williams. I can honestly say that the first time I saw this movie was when my husband said, "Let's watch this. You've never seen it." And I think I remember rolling my eyes and agreeing reluctantly. But, wow! Talk about a movie with both heart and tons of interesting themes for us to pick apart in this blog post.

For the sake of time, we'll stick with three themes I noticed, and I'll give a very brief synopsis. In 'Good Will Hunting,' we follow the story of Will Hunting, a young mathematical genius, who has just been paroled and is working as a janitor at MIT. A professor there, Dr. Lambeau, poses a difficult equation on the board outside his classroom for his students to solve. Will solves it, but is chased off by Lambeau who thinks he is vandalizing the board. Will gets into a gang fight, and in order to avoid further jail time, agrees to study mathematics with Lambeau and attend psychotherapy sessions. He proceeds to mock every therapist that Lambeau throws his way. Thus enters Dr. Sean Maguire, played by Robin Williams. Will attempts to do what he has always done, push Sean away, and Sean eventually gradually gets him to open up slowly. There's a love story sprinkled in there, and a tale of growing up. It's worth the watch, seriously.

Theme #1: Your therapist is human, with real emotions and real reactions to the things you say. If you've ever wondered what your therapist really thinks of you, you're not alone. Will, in his first real appointment with Sean, does everything he can to push him away. He even insults the painting Sean has completed, saying, "It's a real piece of shit." Sean takes most of this in stride, but when Will goes too far, insinuating that Sean "married the wrong woman," and says, "She leave you? Was she bangin' somebody else?" Now, this is where it gets interesting, Sean loses his temper, grabs Will by the throat and says, "If you ever disrespect my wife like that again, I will end you." Safe to say, that probably wouldn't happen, or shouldn't happen, in today's therapy room. But here's the thing, your therapist does have thoughts and feelings and they do feel things in reaction to what you say. We aren't perfect, and while I would hope your therapist never reacts this way to something you say, it is good to recognize that we are all acting out our own 'stuff' within the therapeutic relationship. In Will's case, he is acting out his feelings of anger towards men/father figures. In Sean's case, he is seeing the boy from Southie that he could have become, and he is being asked to confront his own grief and loss through this relationship. Therapy is a two-way street. Any therapist who tells you they are able to remain completely objective all the time is lying to you. (Sorry if I just told some therapists' dirty little secrets by sharing that!)

Theme #2: You don't have to like your therapist all the time to see results. However, you do have to show up and have some level of vulnerability. You don't have to share every horrible thought, Doesn't have to be all at once, but eventually, if you want things to work, you have to let someone in. Here's the thing though: you can try different therapists, but soon, you will realize that you don't have to like your therapist all the time to get better. You just need a therapist who is willing to call you out on your shit and wade with you through the tough stuff. Sean calls out Will in a later scene after the throat grab and basically says to him, "You're a scared little boy, and I don't want to quote books with you, or hypnotize you or battle with you (which is what all the other therapists did in the beginning of the movie). I just want to get to know you, the real you. I'm all in then." Sean's monologue in this scene is a perfect example of what the other therapists missed: the opportunity to 'level' with your client. Sean tells Will like it is, and then posits a challenge for him. He eloquently says, "Shit or get off the pot. Be here with me, vulnerable and real, or don't bother." I bet Will didn't like him in that moment too much. I bet you've had moments where you didn't like your therapist too much, but hey, that's the price of a real relationship. Sometimes you don't like someone and you can still see the value in your time spent with them. In fact, I would argue that's when therapy gets real, that's when you get better, that's when you make moves: when you and your therapist encounter truth together.

Theme #3: It's not your fault. What happened to you isn't your fault. Arguably the most poignant moment of the movie is when Sean is looking over Will's file, detailing all the abuse he suffered at the hands of a past foster father. Sean shares some of his own past history of abuse with Will, because Will asks the question, "Have you experienced that?" Sean, in a moment of self-disclosure, tells the truth about his story of abuse at the hands of his father. Then he repeats to Will over and over again, "It's not your fault." Will attempts to brush this aside, play it off; at one point, he even pushes Sean and says, "Don't fuck with me, not you." Then the cathartic release of tears cascade down his face. They embrace. How many of us have longed for someone, anyone, to tell us that bad things that happened to us in childhood (abandonment, neglect, abuse, divorce, seeing violence, etc.) are not and were not our fault? Well, I'm here to tell you that right now: "It's not your fault. Fuck them." Just like Sean and Will. Your value and worth did not diminish because someone else hurt you, beat you, violated your boundaries, or ignored you. It's not your fault, and you deserve(d) better. Going to therapy is part of "getting better" now. You can't change what happened to you, but you can change the message those events keep echoing in your heart and soul. Transforming "It's my fault" and "I'm not enough" and "I'm too much" to "It's not my fault; I was little; I did the best I could; I'm enough; I deserve good things; I am just right for the right people and relationships."

So... short story long, like my dad always says, go watch 'Good Will Hunting' with renewed eyes and see if you notice any other themes popping up for you. If you need help finding a therapist or want to talk further, send me an email at info@giftofgritcounseling.com. I'd love to connect!

What is a 'good' reason to live?

Hello friends. I hope you are well and taking good care of yourself. These weeks in the holiday season can feel frantic and hurried. And then the weeks afterwards can feel slow, monotonous and dark.

Thus, I thought it might be interesting to discuss a question that has come up during sessions often when I speak with a person who is feeling suicidal. The question is different at times in its wording, but the meaning is the same: "What is a 'good' reason to live?" And the answer is any reason to live is a good one. Sometimes, I think that people who are chronically suicidal think that they're just fooling themselves, or 'delaying the inevitable,' by remembering their reasons to live. I once heard someone tell me that the only thing keeping them here was their dog, and I replied, "And right now, that's enough."

See, that's the secret in creating a life worth living.

It's taking stock of the tiny incremental steps toward life and away from a self-imposed death. It's recognizing that any reason for living is a 'good' reason, and you are not 'putting off the inevitable' if you put off suicide today because of your dog, your spouse, your belief in a higher power, your need to see how the current season of your favorite TV show ends, etc.

It's not punishing yourself if you can't see yourself making it to a certain age or stage in life, but instead saying, "I choose to make it to tomorrow."

It's continuing to be curious about what being suicidal keeps you from doing, and how straddling the line between life and death may be keeping you stuck.

It's about building a life worth living, which often means getting really deep into what is keeping you focused on death and its siren call of escapism. Remove the things you want to escape from, and add more of the things that make you want to live, even if for a tiny amount of time. More time alive means more time to reduce your suicidal thoughts and ultimately save your life.

It's being proud of yourself when you are able to manage your suicidal thoughts or have whole days or weeks without them. That is huge. Thinking about suicide was a way you used to cope, and now you are replacing it with other options.

It's riding the waves of suicidal thoughts without acting on them. In the therapy business, we call it 'urge surfing,' but essentially it's just seeing the urge or feeling and not doing anything else with it. You can urge surf with almost anything, by the way. If you feel the urge to drink tonight, or overeat, you can see it, not act on it, and wait for it to pass. Every urge or feeling will pass in time. Sometimes, we need extra help with urge surfing, because we are struggling to separate ourselves from our feelings. That's okay too. Learning not to act on all of our feelings or urges takes time. We must do the opposite of whatever impulse tells us to do in a dark moment. For example, if you want to hurt yourself, you might instead do something completely opposite of that such as cook yourself a nice meal, take a walk or get a massage. If you want to destroy things, you might try creating something instead.

It's reaching out for help when you are in immediate danger of going over the edge. The National Crisis Lifeline number is 988. You can call/text it anytime, day or night.

If you love someone in the depths of despair, take heart. As Marsha Linehan, the founder of Dialectical Behavior Therapy, says in her memoir 'Building a Life Worth Living,' “If you are with someone who is in hell, keep loving them, because in the end it will be transformative. They are like someone walking in a mist. They don’t see the mist, and you may not see it, either. They don’t see that they are getting wet. But if they have a pail for water, you put it out in the mist. Each moment of love adds to the mist, adds to the water in the pail. By itself, each moment of love may not be enough. But ultimately the pail fills and the person who has been in hell will be able to drink that water of love and be transformed. I know. I have been there. I have drunk from that pail.”

Know that I am rooting for you, whether you are the one suffering or the one who holds the sufferer. Keep going. Keep hoping. Keep holding onto that part of you that wants to live, no matter how small. That part deserves a chance.

Take Exquisite Care of Yourselves,

Megan

New Series: A Therapist "Ruins" Your Favorite Movies

Hi friends! I hope your holiday season (if you celebrate) is cheery and bright. If it's not those things or is not what you expected, know that you have my sincerest warm wishes for you and yours this time of year and all year round.

Today, I thought we would delve into a fun new series called 'A Therapist "Ruins" Your Favorite Movies,' where I break down the psychological issues and mistakes within various movies beloved by most people. If you've ever wondered what a therapist thinks of a certain movie, send it my way. I'd love to watch it and give my thoughts. A slight disclaimer: I actually don't watch a lot of movies. My husband is a major movie buff and can name actors in films and discuss movies he has seen a million times. Me, however? If you ask me if I've seen something, the answer is probably no. So this will be a fun experiment for me as well.

The first movie I've selected for us to examine more closely is the much beloved holiday movie "Home Alone," written and produced by John Hughes. For those who don't know the premise (and in this case, even I, a non-movie watcher, know the premise), Kevin, an 7 year old boy in a large well to do American family is left behind accidentally when his family takes a trip to Paris for the Christmas season. While he is home alone, he has to care for himself and defend the home against two wily burglars with all sorts of hijinks and booby traps. As a child, I recall laughing at how funny the pranks were and finding the whole movie to be a joy to watch from start to finish. As an adult and a mental health therapist, I found it to be a different experience this time around. I turned on the movie early this past Saturday morning to share it with my kiddo, and I have to say there were several things in the film that I found astounding/appalling. For the sake of brevity, we will identify three themes in "Home Alone" below.

First, can we just address that the way the family talks to Kevin and to each other is the opposite of kind and loving? In fact, I would argue that at multiple points in the first 15 minutes, Hughes establishes a consistent pattern of emotional neglect and abusive language in the McCallister family. When I had watched this movie previously, I would laugh at these opening scenes because they were funny, and judging from the rest of the audience's reaction, I wasn't the only one who found the chaos humorous. I sometimes wonder if we all were laughing because we recognized that this is the way most families talk to each other and it hurts to acknowledge the damage it might be doing or might have done to us as children. Kevin is described as "bratty" but I would argue that he had to be behave like a brat to get anybody to notice him and try and get his needs met. It's like I tell parents (and myself sometimes, because I'm a parent too) "If you tell your child they're a brat, they will behave like a brat. If you notice only the bad, you will only get more bad behavior." Nobody in this family notices the good. Nobody speaks to each other kindly. The children bully each other, and the adults allow it to go unchecked.

Second, Kevin is little, and as such, exhibits a large and creative imagination. He imagines the furnace is alive. He sees the nutcrackers singing a demonic version of 'Silent Night.' Kevin believes Buzz, his older brother, who spins an elaborate tale about their neighbor Mr. Marley being a serial killer. Without kind, loving, secure adults, a child, like Kevin, can quickly blow something they've heard or seen out of proportion. This emphasizes something I think we forget as adults: children are afraid of many things that seem normal or routine to us. I have to thank Hughes for this reminder, because sometimes it can be hard to be patient with children when they seem to be afraid of something that isn't scary necessarily to you. Fear, however, is a driving emotion for all human beings, and we would do well to remember that the fear a small child feels is the same fear adults feel, just about different things.

Third, while the McCallister family had some grave missteps in the beginning of the movie, there was an opportunity for redemption at the end. Kate, Kevin's mother, moves heaven and earth to get back to her son once she realizes he is at home alone. Kevin works to protect the family home, despite wishing for his family to disappear at the beginning of the movie. He wishes for his mother to come back to him. The most touching scene in the movie is between Mr. Marley and Kevin in the church. Kevin realizes that he has "not been a good boy" this year, and Mr. Marley encourages Kevin to 'confess' to a higher power and ask for what he needs. Kevin also learns, contrary to popular belief, that Marley had a life with a family and children and grandchildren in it. The rumors of him being a serial killer seem untrue. He reports he misses his wife, and Kevin listens thoughtfully to an old man, who needs to talk about how much he desires to be with his family again, thus solidifying a redemption arc for American families everywhere. Even when we treat each other poorly, fall out of touch, miss the mark as parents, or neglect our love for one another, there is always time for those behaviors and patterns to change. Until there isn't any time left, like in Marley's case.

To sum it up, "Home Alone" has both good and bad themes in it, psychologically. The main theme of being together and valuing relationships is one that stands out as a positive takeaway. Let's all hope for working towards finding value and peace in our relationships in the new year. We can be 'home alone' but why would you want to be? If you need help working towards that goal or any others, feel free to email me at info@giftofgritcounseling.com.