There are nights when I shoot up suddenly, jolted awake by searing nerve pain. In those late hours, I lie still envisioning a slasher breaking into my house wielding a knife or chainsaw or machete (think Robert Rodriguez or Rob Zombie grade of cinematic gore) only to have me beg them to take the left leg first. I’m sure, given the nature of what they are, they’d also do their worst to the rest of me, but I’d at least be able to enjoy being rid of the limb that causes me such immense pain for a few brief seconds. That’s how much pain I’m in more often than I’d like to admit when living with C.R.P.S.(Complex Regional Pain Syndrome). Ten years since diagnosis after injury turned surgeries turned disease/disability, I no longer even hold out hope to be pain free, I just hold out hope for different pain. I dream about it.
On these horrendous nights, there’s only one thing that soothes me. I turn on the T.V. and locate my copy of Cake. And there she is – my old buddy Claire. She’s always there, just as author Patrick Tobin wrote her. She began as the twisted protagonist of his short story and then went on to be the lead character of his screenplay for Netflix. There was no one who understood me til Claire. I have no idea what I ever did without her.
My life without her was so much worse off. She shows so many things to the world about what it’s like to be disabled, and live with chronic pain in better ways than I ever can. There’s the way she hates being with people who, with their mere presence, silently demand that she prop up her former self, a self that’s long been dead. There’s her inner conflict that persists when she tries to pretend she doesn’t need anyone yet has to face it when life throws more curveballs at her and she finds that she does in fact need other humans.
Claire doesn’t just say nice things people want to hear, not even in her therapy group. She fixates on Nina, a fellow group member, who died by suicide, wondering what finally brought Nina to that decision. When Claire’s therapy group can’t take her sardonic wit, inability to play nice with others and jadedness, they try their best to send her on her way. Claire hangs on. She won’t be gotten rid of. She’s intent on showing them it shouldn’t be so easy for people to forget.
Claire won’t let anyone forget why they are all there and what they’re really living with. I love her for this. I love her for saying all the things I can’t give myself permission to, and feeling all the things I try to deny. I’m in awe of the way that she owns her pain. She never apologizes for it.
I’ve read the Cake short many times over as well, but lying on my couch, wondering if I can stand to wake another day, I need to watch, not just read. When I see Jennifer Aniston playing Claire and embodying this unprecedented heroine, I feel like I’m not alone. More than that, I feel like she’s telling my story, like Tobin’s telling it. I know that someone out there at some point gets what my life is like and I’m reminded this is what the best writers do -they make their readers feel gotten.
Recently on Twitter, someone put the question out there of “Should you write about mental illness or disabilities?” I’m sure there were people who didn’t like my “hell yes” response. I would wonder if any of these irritated people have their own mental illnesses or disabilities, however. When I typed in my reply, I immediately thought of Tobin and his Cake. I thought about how I’m so glad he never asked a question like that because sometimes when people ask these “Should I?” kind of questions, they get all caught up in the range of replies and abandon whatever it is they were thinking of writing in the first place. I’m so glad Tobin didn’t do this as he himself does not have a disability like Claire’s and a fellow Twitterer may have quickly told him “No! You can’t write about this. It’s not your story to tell.”
The thing of it is,and I’m aware as I’m typing that others may not share my viewpoint, I don’t mind who tells the stories of those of us living with chronic illness, disabilities, or chronic pain. I don’t mind at all just as long as they get told and told well. These lifeline stories about those of us whose happily ever afters turned miserable ever afters way too fast. These are what keeps us going. These kinds of stories help the dark nights become mornings we’ll agree to live through. I’m just so grateful to have my Claire. So thank you Patrick Tobin. Thanks for not asking the questions, and for writing what you felt you just had to write. Thanks for writing my story.