bring em all in
Silver Member
Quotes from Robin Williams as the character Sy in the movie One Hour Photo:
1. “When people's houses are on fire, what's the first thing they save after their pets and loved ones are safe? The family photos.
2. "Family photos depict smiling faces... births, weddings, holidays, children's birthday parties. People take pictures of the happy moments in their lives. Someone looking through our photo album would conclude that we had led a joyous, leisurely existence free of tragedy. NO ONE EVER TAKES A PHOTOGRAPH OF SOMETHING THEY WANT TO FORGET."
3."New parents go photo crazy."
4."And if these pictures have anything important to say to future generations, it's this: I was here. I existed.... and someone cared enough about me in this world to take my picture.”
There are NO PICTURES of me before the world had to cart me into an operating room (at around three to four months of age) to begin the excruciating but futile process of trying to fix my cleft lip and palate to make my appearance socially acceptable. But at least they successfully repaired a baby so broken and deformed that he could not properly take in enough nourishment.
The fact that there are NO BABY PICTURES of me makes me VERY sad and angry, and talking in therapy and journaling about this has not taken the torment out of this truth. I get misty-eyed as I want to see that boy as he came into the world, to know that he was acceptable and valued enough as he was, valued enough to be photographed. I want to look upon him with love and acceptance- and then maybe able to do the same for my adult self now.
Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I think if I could see myself as that baby I could learn to accept all the traumatic surgeries (including one with the anesthetic not working properly) I endured up to the age of 16, the embarrassment of being pulled out of class for speech therapy, the severe bullying I endured as a student and then as a teacher, painful orthodontal interventions, a lifetime of sinus trouble and hearing difficulties, and the stories from my mom about how nurses in those days didn't dare leave a mother alone in a room with a newborn cleft lip/palate baby for fear that she'd harm him.
She told me was I was young that doctors think maternal smoking during pregnancy increases the risk of having a baby with a cleft lip and palate, but she denied that as the cause.
She told me to "forget what the kids at school say" and that "In India being born with a cleft lip and palate is a sign you are special and destined for great things. I knew it was a false claim at the time. Now, via the wonders of the Internet, I learned that "almost all parents in this cohort of India blamed the
birth of a CLP child on a curse or an act of evil spirits and similarly, retribution for past sins."
Lovely.
And the effects of being born with a cleft lip/palate is but one of the causes of my PTSD.
Today I had my most severe and longest episode of verbal raging and violence against objects (almost broke a sink top and nearly punched a hole in a wall). Scared my wife and me very much.
Talking, crying, raging- nothing resolves my feelings on this issue, and today has been a most difficult day indeed.
1. “When people's houses are on fire, what's the first thing they save after their pets and loved ones are safe? The family photos.
2. "Family photos depict smiling faces... births, weddings, holidays, children's birthday parties. People take pictures of the happy moments in their lives. Someone looking through our photo album would conclude that we had led a joyous, leisurely existence free of tragedy. NO ONE EVER TAKES A PHOTOGRAPH OF SOMETHING THEY WANT TO FORGET."
3."New parents go photo crazy."
4."And if these pictures have anything important to say to future generations, it's this: I was here. I existed.... and someone cared enough about me in this world to take my picture.”
There are NO PICTURES of me before the world had to cart me into an operating room (at around three to four months of age) to begin the excruciating but futile process of trying to fix my cleft lip and palate to make my appearance socially acceptable. But at least they successfully repaired a baby so broken and deformed that he could not properly take in enough nourishment.
The fact that there are NO BABY PICTURES of me makes me VERY sad and angry, and talking in therapy and journaling about this has not taken the torment out of this truth. I get misty-eyed as I want to see that boy as he came into the world, to know that he was acceptable and valued enough as he was, valued enough to be photographed. I want to look upon him with love and acceptance- and then maybe able to do the same for my adult self now.
Maybe it's wishful thinking, but I think if I could see myself as that baby I could learn to accept all the traumatic surgeries (including one with the anesthetic not working properly) I endured up to the age of 16, the embarrassment of being pulled out of class for speech therapy, the severe bullying I endured as a student and then as a teacher, painful orthodontal interventions, a lifetime of sinus trouble and hearing difficulties, and the stories from my mom about how nurses in those days didn't dare leave a mother alone in a room with a newborn cleft lip/palate baby for fear that she'd harm him.
She told me was I was young that doctors think maternal smoking during pregnancy increases the risk of having a baby with a cleft lip and palate, but she denied that as the cause.
She told me to "forget what the kids at school say" and that "In India being born with a cleft lip and palate is a sign you are special and destined for great things. I knew it was a false claim at the time. Now, via the wonders of the Internet, I learned that "almost all parents in this cohort of India blamed the
birth of a CLP child on a curse or an act of evil spirits and similarly, retribution for past sins."
Lovely.
And the effects of being born with a cleft lip/palate is but one of the causes of my PTSD.
Today I had my most severe and longest episode of verbal raging and violence against objects (almost broke a sink top and nearly punched a hole in a wall). Scared my wife and me very much.
Talking, crying, raging- nothing resolves my feelings on this issue, and today has been a most difficult day indeed.
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